The most beautiful lady

I have said on many occasions that my mom is my angel, my hero, and my best friend; she is everything I want to be when I grow up. Every now and then I do something that makes me realize how much I’ve become like her, and in that moment I smile and give a mental fist pump to the air because I am that much closer to achieving one of my greatest goals. Throughout my entire life I have watched my mother live a life of service, hard work, patience, compassion, joy, hope, and love.

My mom is one of nine children, and each one played a special part in the family business of Pierre’s Playhouse. This was a magical place of melodrama theater where villains wore capes, top hats, and swirly mustaches as they pursued the favor of the heroine and any riches or power to be acquired. These plans were always thwarted by the never failing, dashing and handsome hero, who would save the damsel and sweep her off her feet. All of this ensued, garnished with the music of the red player piano, the boo’s, ahh’s, and cheers of the audience, popcorn and soft drinks, extravagant costumes, and a little girl who would give anything to be just like the heroine in those plays. I was the little girl, and my mom was that heroine. These are my first memories of wanting to be just like her.


As I grew, I witnessed countless occasions where my mother continued to be a real life heroine. Not the helpless damsel in distress, but a strong and passionate woman who was continuously coming to the rescue of others. Her life is a pure example of selflessness as she home schooled me and my siblings, did humanitarian aid, took in the poor and the needy, fulfilled hours upon hours of service in her church callings, engaged in all night sessions of helping me write my English papers, gave her unfailing support and dedication to my dad in all circumstances, gave ride after ride to band, piano lessons, t-ball, soccer, violin lesson, softball, gymnastics, etc., completely dedicated herself to my care in my battle of cancer, and brought us closer to our Heavenly Father as she created an atmosphere in our home where the Spirit could always be felt. The list of her amazing qualities and good deeds is endless, and I could not hope to number them all. I am in constant awe that my Father in Heaven would allow me the privilege of having such a mother to look up to and emulate. I owe most of what I have become to her.

As the day of my college graduation from ISU arrived and my parents were on their way into town, I took my time getting ready for the big day. As I was finishing, I put on my earrings, applied some lipstick, and “fixed” my hair for the hundredth time, then found myself trying to decide which perfume to wear. I have several different kinds, none of which really smell similar. Usually it just depends on my mood or the occasion as to which one I wear, if I wear any at all. It didn't take long before I was reaching for one of my favorites, and the thought that ran through my head was, “I want to smell like Mom today.” I hadn't really thought of that perfume smelling like my mom before, but that’s when it struck me that maybe that’s why it’s one of my favorites.

This picture hangs in the Dental Hygiene building
here at ISU. Sometimes I go look at it when I miss her.

                                 
My parents got there just a few minutes before the graduation ceremony started, leaving me in a little bit of a panic since they were bringing my cap and gown – the same cap and gown my mom wore when she graduated from ISU all those years ago. I stood on the curb as they drove up, waving my arms and twirling in my red, polka-dotted dress so that they would see me. As my mom saw me her hand flew to her mouth and she began to cry. She got out of the car and we just held each other, both crying. Without much time to spare, out came the graduation cap and gown, which she and my dad helped me put on. Maybe I’m too sentimental, but the fact that I was wearing the same cap and gown my mom did and graduating from the same college really struck a chord with me. Could my dream of becoming just like her be coming true? Was I finally becoming a heroine?

I love my mom. I think she is amazing, and everyone else should too. That’s sort of the entire message of this little monologue, in case you didn't catch that. There are several women in my life who I look up to, love, and respect, but none are as beautiful as my mother. She is an extraordinary example and radiant beacon of light to everyone around her, though she would never claim the praise and admiration she is so deserving of.
I love her, and I hope to be a real life heroine, just like her. She is the most beautiful lady in all the world. 

Yours Truly