Terra Orndorff

Happy Mother’s Day

Here’s the thing. I’m writing a book about my mom. It is not what you read here. It is creative nonfiction. It is told from an unreliable narrator. But it is all I know from my life with her. Every woman deserves her story to be told, and I will tell the story of my mom, the baddest badass to ever badass.

This is Mother’s Day. I honor my own mom. I remember her. I smile thinking of her.

I write.

Here.

In the manuscript.

One the page of my heart reserved for her.

On Mother’s Day, Mom always blasted out praise for every other mother in her life. Me. Friends. Relatives. Never herself. For herself she held herself under a microscope and nitpicked. To me, my mom was the gold standard of moms. Never hesitating to bring out her lioness. Always there with a supportive hand. Quick to call people, including myself, out on our bullshit. No one loved harder than she did, even when others didn’t deserve it. She forgave too quickly at times. But that was Mom. Sharp as nails and soft as alpaca wool.

The book is a slow process. I’ll get it done. When I do, Momma will be the first to know.

Happy Mother’s Day to all you momma’s out there and to those who have lost their own; my heart is with you today and every day.