Just A Mom

You won’t remember the exact words that were exchanged or what anyone wore, necessarily… but you’ll forever remember how they made you feel.

I don’t know about you, but I’ve been in the company of folks who didn’t ….well, want my company at all. Honestly, you never forget that feeling. I might not remember the particulars of the day or event but I know when and when not I am appreciated or even wanted. (I hope you read that in your best Forrest Gump voice).

It’s an overall feeling.

I felt…. appreciated.

Engaged. Equal. Valued. Recognized….

I also felt insanely overwhelmed from the outpouring of joy emanating from the audience, the staff & crew… and Miss Jennifer Hudson herself.

Nope. Not a typo. I can’t even believe I am typing out her name either.

J E N N I F E R.   Hudson

To think… I’m just a mom. A no one really, from a little town called Niceville of all places, with absolutely no initials after my name, no credentials or talents whatsoever. I was in the same company as an EGOT, among many of her other titles and accomplishments. Hannah and me…together.

I should have felt small.

I should have felt inadequate, uninteresting, or overall dull. Definitely should have felt unqualified at the very least with my long list of unaccomplishments and awards left completely blank.

But her sparkle was so bright it lit us up too.

It spilled over from her gorgeous wide smile and welcoming bright eyes.

And so it would appear there was enough for us all to shine WITH her, in the same room.

And I’d like to think that’s how it’s supposed to be.

Joy, love, peace, long-suffering…

All of them.

You should have so much of it, that when someone is in your presence, they feel it too.

So to Miss Jennifer and her entire crew… thank you. How could I possibly say thank you? How can you fully grasp how you made “just a mom” feel? A mom who has, for two decades served her family primarily as a caregiver of children with very special medical needs? A mom with zero accolades and certainly nothing to offer your stage or audience.

You gave ME… a voice. (Now… please tell me after you read that you could envision Miss Jennifer throwing a show and turning around her chair so fast her hair is still a foot behind her.) No? Just me??

You let me speak, not begrudgingly, not in a rushing manner, nor without a listening heart…

You heard me…

And you made US… feel… welcomed.

What you did for us has no number value. It bears no witness to anything shiny or sparkling or statuesque.

But today, we stood a little taller. We smiled a bit broader. And we felt more confident because overall we know you shared … JOY.

And for that, Miss Hudson and crew… I am forever grateful.

After today, I will no longer call myself “just a mom.” I am however, mom with a voice and a platform to share what my heart has longed to.

And also… a mom who stood next to Miss Hudson. 🙌🏻