She taught me how to use a mop and a bucket.
I resented it at first, because, well, I was eight.
We were at girl scout camp, and my mom took me in the back room by the kitchen in the cafeteria.
She pointed at the industrial grade chemicals and said “Lets get to work.”
She taught me how to wring out the mop and properly scrub the floor. “To do is to learn,” she would say as she pointed to my next steps.
Let it also be said that my mom didn’t want it just to appear that I was mopping a floor. She wanted me to do it well. In other words, she wanted me to know the difference between sloshing dirty water around in circles, and actually cleaning a floor.
I didn’t appreciate this skill for a few decades.
But as I’ve grown, and learned more about who my mom is… I now see this:
A strong woman who has a keen eye to find someone who is down-and-out. Then, she steps in. She has some other-worldly radar for spotting a need and then tangibly meeting it. I call her a first-responder.
My mother is the first to help clean up after your party. First to offer to do the grunt work because she knows it needs to be done. If you’re in the trenches, you don’t even have to ask her to come because shes already arrived.
If it weren’t for her instruction, I would be a woman who sloshes water around in circles.
My mom doesn’t wear heels. She wears sensible shoes. The kind that can get dirty and move fast – because shes a warrior. And she’ll help you carry your load.