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My mother. She never judged me, never lost faith in me, & never flinched when my pain tried to push her away. Week after week, she wrote letters. Month after month, she visited me, no matter how far away the prison. Year after year, she was there, ever my champion. #MothersDay 
Early on, when I was facing a life sentence, it hurt so much to hurt her that I tried over & over to convince her to never visit me again. To forget about me. She wasn’t having it.
l’ll never forget the surprise visit while I was in Jamestown. She lived many hours away. “I had a free afternoon”, she said, “So I just hopped in the car and drove here”.
Every week I was in prison, a large green & white envelope would arrive from my Mom. It contained newspaper clippings that she thought I’d enjoy, hockey standings, words that I’d asked the definitions to, & always a sticky note with a love note (just like when I was a kid).
I regret so much the heartache & worry I put her through. The embarrassment of the newspaper articles & the commentary that questioned her efficacy as a mother. Though I may try, I will never be able to right those wrongs.
She even came to visit me while her father & my grandfather was in hospice. He passed away during our visit. The sacrifices my Mom made are sometimes just unimaginable.
Every year, she texts me a “congrats” text for my sobriety birthday. It’s always one day early. That’s because, for her, the anniversary is the day I was taken into custody (though for me, it’s the next day that I got sober).
I won’t get to see my Mom today, but we’ll see each other next weekend. And I bought her a gift that I know she’s gonna love, because she’s talked about it for years but never buys it for herself.
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