Dear Miley Cyrus,
I would love to be your mother, just for one day. I’d hug you and tell you that I love you. I’d show you that you can be rich, and have no money at all. I’d teach you that if you are blessed with fame, you should use it to make a difference in the world…in a positive way. I’d tell you that you no longer have to go to extremes for attention, I’d give you my full attention, and you could share all your worries, wants and fears with me, and I would listen. Really listen. We would shut off the television and enjoy the world around us. You could walk with us through the fall leaves. We’d have a typical day, filled with every day highs and lows, magic and blessings, crying babies and poopy diapers.
I’d make pancakes for breakfast, you’d pitch in helping to set the table and we would pray before we eat. Then we’d go to the local pumpkin patch, and you could pick out the biggest pumpkin you can carry. And sit on a straw bale while I take a ton of photos of you, with my two cute little pumpkins. We’d answer the hundreds of questions from my 5-year old Joey, whose inquisitive little mind is fresh and taking it all in. And most of the answers will be “because God made it that way.” And we’d laugh and smile as my 2-year old Josie points to the water tower in Grand Forks and says “my pumpkin.”
If I could be your mother for just one day, I’d teach you that you can have a fresh start, starting now. Everyone deserves a second chance, and that everything you are searching for is right under your nose even though you don’t know it.
There’s a reason so many of us are living this way, the life of an “average American.” It’s because it’s the good life. Living for others and working to make a difference in the world will fill your heart until it’s overflowing. If I could be your mom for just one day, we’d go to my parent’s farm, and have a picnic in the yard. We’d take you for a hayride and you could enjoy the silence of the woods and God’s creation all around you. And we’d end the day, doing what I love best; we’d have a family dance.
I grew up in a family with more than 100 cousins, a good Irish Catholic family. And when we get together, we dance, anytime, anywhere. We’ve even had an impromptu dance in my grandparent’s front yard, with a stereo playing and car headlights lighting our path. We’d kick up our heels and really dance. If I could be your mom for just one day, we’d end the day, down on our knees, thanking God for all of our blessings and we’d list them by name. And I’d end the day with one more hug, letting you know that I love you. If I could be your mom, for just one day.