Did you pack band-aids? (Mom)

Little Becky (with awesome pants)

About 5 years ago, as I was packing my bags (3 suitcases, 1 backpack) in early August to head to college across the country in Tennessee- count the prepositions there- my Mom asked me if I had remembered to buy/pack band-aids. I tossed a box from the bathroom into a pocket and wouldn't have thought much more of it.

Over the next remaining days, she asked that question again and again. "Did you pack band-aids?" wound its way into most conversations at breakfast, in the car, while vacuuming, heading out the door, at the grocery store, finishing the crossword puzzle, napping at the river. It became almost a joke between us; every time there was a gap in the conversation, I'd respond "yes, I packed band-aids." To this day I'm not entirely sure why she was concerned about this item in particular- there are, after all, band-aids in Tennessee. Maybe she knew that I'm accident-prone and a bit of a klutz (looking at the scabs on my knees, she's right), maybe she knew in my minimalist packing I likely wouldn't think to bring them (again, she's right). Or maybe, in spite of how much she knew she would miss me, she wanted me to have a good adventure- scrapes and cuts and stings included- and wanted to make sure I took care of myself in the midst of it.

My mom when she was about
my age (crazy thought)

I've always been close to my Mom, but I wouldn't say that we have the sister-twin relationship like some of my friends have with theirs. Physically, I turned out more like my Dad, and in personality I seem to have inherited mostly traits from his side of the family. All that to say that I have many of the same things she loves about him, but also similar tendencies that annoy/frustrate her- lack of planning and communication more than anything. Naturally, I have plenty of my Mom in me, too- we have a lot of the same tastes in music, food, humor, and hobbies; I can give her name (my middle name) at Starbucks when 'Jill' is too complicated; my inclination to work with kids and languages comes primarily from her; and I've been told we have the same voice on the phone.

The wonder of my Mom, for me, is not that we're similar- it's that she's wonderfully different. In many ways, she is my complement. She taught me how to hug (and sent one with me in the form of a quilt), gets me to say what's on my mind, and was the first to say "go for it!" when I brought up the idea of Argentina. She is social, pretty, goofy, generous, and wise; she is dressed in strength and dignity and she can laugh at the (many!) days to come. Many women do awesome things, but you outshine them all- and in that regard, I hope to be very much like you- because a woman who lives and demonstrates a good relationship with God, her family, and her neighbor deserves recognition (Proverbs 31, yet another paraphrase).

PDX in February- see you in 2 days!

Happy birthday and feliz cumple, Mom!

And yes, I packed band-aids.