I am lucky to have so many great mother figures in my life, from an incredible mom and a wonderful stepmother to a dear family friend whom I called my “other mama” from the time I learned to talk. Add in the joy of being a mom to my 14-year-old son, and Mother’s Day over the years has been filled with sweet moments of every kind. One of my favorites, though, proves that sometimes the least expected occasions become the most treasured.
I’d recently moved back to my hometown of Atlanta from college, and on that sunny Mother’s Day I was headed for my mom’s house, looking forward to taking her to a lovely restaurant for lunch. Halfway there, white smoke began to billow from under my car hood. I pulled over, jumped out and ran away from the car as fast as I could, dialing—who else?—my mom in a panic. (I must have been quite a sight, standing beside a six-lane highway decked out in a dress and close to tears.) The rest of the day is a blur of tow trucks and car parts, but what I do remember clearly is going for supper at the only restaurant nearby without a wait: the Waffle House. We all sat there in our Sunday best, devouring waffles and hash browns and laughing with fatigue and relief as the servers refilled our coffee cups again and again. My mom has always had a way of putting things into perspective, and she managed to turn that stressful afternoon into an adventure. She may not have gotten the elegant meal she was promised, but she definitely got one for the memory books!
