Somebody said recently, "Don't forget to hug yo mama once in a while".

http://www.npr.org/2013/05/11/182898557/mini-memoirs-6-word-stories-to-honor-mom

I stumbled upon this article the other day and wondered what I too might say.

I tried to come up with six words, something catchy, humorous, a gut-wrenchingly memorable moment that forever changed who I am in relation to you or vice versa or both. "You're  my Mom, I love you". No, too cliche. "Short, photographer, goofy, serious, helpful." Too vague and void of meaning. So here I sit..... blank space.... NOT because those moments don't exist, but because they constantly are, WE are ever changing and because those moments exist as the mundane, not the grandiose. Six words wouldn't be enough, and still too many. I love who you are in any form standing next to me. Raw, exposed, vulnerable, be that always. Perhaps, those are my six words: 

Raw: I ate sushi with you at the age of 15 for the first time, slurped down sea urchin, and while I can't recall the taste, you instilled fresh perspective, the California coastline, how to paddle a kayak across a landscape, renewal.
Exposed: there's this photo of you when you were in your early teens, posing with a tether ball, twiggy arms, pigtails, sinewy legs, innocent grin. I wonder what it would be to know you then, in the sepia tones of your youth.
Vulnerable: what I think it might mean to become a parent, an open vessel for the skinned knees, the tears and trials, the laughter, the stillness when they've flown the coop, the calamity when they come crashing back in, speaking in tongues, to fill up and either sink or learn to interpret the feeling of floating. 
Be: cause breathing is enough, and maybe it's what you drummed on your belly right before birth began, and you're still tapping into the California wind sent my way, playing patty cake with my hands on the other side, "just be, just be".
That: do you feel what words cannot name? 
Always: loving you. 

Happy Mama Day 
Love, your Boobutt