When I was in high school, pagers were the ultimate status symbol. Clipped to your hip, a beeper told the world you were in demand. And everyone wanted one. Well, everyone except me. Because as cool as the Motorola Bravo ever was, the idea of my mom blowing up my beeper would never be.
And she was the kind of parent who would do a thing like that. She was a protective mama bear with serious rules and expectations. But as strong of a safety hold as she ever had on me, I kept her selfishly closer. As a teenager, I demanded a lot from her, often in my time and in my way. She was my teacher, problem solver, cheerleader, and safe place. Even now, 24 years, a husband, and two kids later, she’s still all those things for me, and somehow so much more. [read more…]