Why les-francophile adores his maman

I borrowed my mother’s camera this weekend, and she popped into town to drop it off at my apartment while I was sleeping (I crawled to the door for the hand-off and slipped right back into bed), neglecting to give me the USB cord, which she just FedExed to me today.

Opening the package in my office, I was greeted not only by the much-anticipated cord, but by a series of notes, saved for over 20 years, that she would leave me as a kid. Before I was old enough to attend school, I was watched by my Tante Helga, a family friend (Tante is German for aunt) who lived just a few blocks away. At the time, my mother left for work earlier than my father, so he would wake me and make my breakfast, and drop me off chez Tante Helga. Every morning, I’d be greeted by my mother’s presence, however: she would leave me a “good morning, Mr. Sunshine” note featuring her (quite artistic) rendering of a character I’d recognize … Cookie Monster, Elmo, Grover, Mickey Mouse, etc. For a while they’d hang on the fridge, so I’d be greeted by a cast of characters each day, and ultimately, mom saved them for me to find later on in life. I just might hang one over my desk as a reminder of how special I am to have a mom like her.

And oh, if that’s not too sappy for you, here’s another note from her, written to me during a rough time in my adolescence, also enclosed for my smiling pleasure today:

Dear Matt,

If God let me choose anyone or anything on this green earth, I would always and forever choose you. I thank God for you everyday … and I thank you for being you.

I love you, Matthew.

xoxoxo Mom