Mother's Day
My mother was a Master Sergeant in the Air National Guard in an era when women were emphatically not senior NCOs in the military. It didn't help that she was pretty, divorced, and independent-minded. I didn't realize how tough she had to be and what it took to get there when I was a kid. All I knew was how tough she was on me. She had to raise me and my sister without much help from anybody (especially her family), weighed down by the expectation that she would fail and all of us would never amount to much of anything. Sometimes she worked two jobs to get a little extra money and keep things going. But there was always food on the table, the bills were always paid, and we felt that things were always getting a little better.

She met my stepfather at the base. He was a Major and was in line to eventually be base commander. He also was getting divorced and had given up drinking (a critical career as well as social activity). This was an era when officers (him) and enlisted (her) didn't fraternize (openly) and they sure as hell didn't get married. They were a scandal, and that pretty much ended Roger's chances of being base commander. Not that he minded. They finished raising us, finished their careers, and retired before they were 50.

Both her children and her second marriage turned out to be very successful. We got the hell out of Duluth, Minnesota and all ended up someplace better.

My mom and I didn't get along when I was a kid. I didn't realize that I was following in her footsteps when I rebelled against the circumstances I was raised in and dreamed of a better, freer life somewhere else. Sometime during my late twenties, we simultaneously came to the realization of how alike we really are.

I am my Mother's son.

Have a good Mother's Day, Mom. You've earned it, and earned every other good day in your life.