My Mom

I know there are many people out there that believe that their Mom is best. Well, I'm sorry to burst all of your bubbles, but MY MOM IS THE BEST! I'm not being boastful, or prideful, since my Mother taught me better than that. I'm not bragging, since my Mother taught me not to do that. I'm just telling the truth, since yes, you guessed it, she taught me that as well. I couldn't have asked, bartered, traded, bought, sold, or otherwise concocted any better Mother than you.

My Mom is truly incredible. She works so hard. And I don't mean at a 8:00 to 5:00 job necessarily. It's at anything she does. She works so hard being a Mom. She works so hard at being a Grandma. She works hard at being a good neighbor, friend, church member, club member, etc...

When I was 9 years old, I was a wrestler. I was good. I dominated my age group and the age group above me. I was wrestling two and even three years ahead of my age group. It came to the finals, and I was wrestling a Man/Boy that I'm pretty sure not only drove himself to the match, but brought a couple of his teenage children with him. He was BIG, MEAN, UGLY, and did I mention BIG?

I was pretty fearless, but this gorilla struck fear in my gut, and quite possibly my pants, but I can't remember. My Mom stood next to me Mat-Side and gave me moral support and stood ready to provide life support if the need arose, which seemed rather possible looking at the goon across from me. My Mom turned me towards her. She looked me in the eye and told me that no matter what happened, when I thought I was about to give up, just hold on one more minute. She promised me that as tired as I was, as much as I wanted to give up, the other guy would be feeling the same way and if I just held on a little longer, I would win. Youth being very trusting I took her at her word.

I started to approach the center of the mat. The guy across from me put out his cigarette, kissed his wife and moved towards me sneering all the way no doubt believing me to be his appetizer for the steak dinner he was going to get later. We fought long and hard. I wore him down. And just when I thought I was going to have to give up, I remembered my Mom and held on. I won.

Years later, on the first day of "Hell Week" of Freshman football, I was scared to death, and my Mom told me the same advice. Just hold on a little longer than the next guy and you'll win. I won.

Each year of football my Mom gave me the same advice, and, I won.

My Mom taught me many things, but sometimes, when the goings getting rough, and I just don't feel like I can make it anymore, I hold on just a little bit longer and usually....

I Win.

Thanks Mom, I love you very much!