The Greatest Love of All

Here I am Cincinnati! It's wonderful to meet you.

New city, new me. At least that's the plan.

I'm a million miles (actually 600) from home and completely out of my element. I'm getting settled. Learning the shuttle schedule, finding my classrooms, organizing my new place, meeting my new roommates....

I'm ready for my life here to start. What will Cincinnati Tricia be like? I can't wait to get to know her. I know that sounds silly, I know myself, but it is definitely a transitional period for me.

I love life right now. I love that I got into grad school and by some amazing grace of god (and a lot of support from my Ma) I actually got to go. I love that I live in a city...with a Nordstrom Rack. I love that I don't have to drive to school. I love that I get to do theater for at least 3 more years. I love make-up. I love my new apartment (even though my calves are burning from going up an down the stairs in my 3-rd floor place). I love the weather here, and the hills, and the trees, and the restaraunts.....

But there is one thing. One person, who I love, more than anyone else in this world. Who understands me like no one ever has and will, and will not be part of my life here in this new city: My Mom.

My Mom (Ma). My partner in crime. The one who shares my tears and laughter. The hardest person to please who will love me even if I fail. The most judgemental of all my friends. The person I can call at 3 am but will be pissed that I'm calling at that hour. The other half of my favorite two-person team.

If you know me, you probably know my mom, at least through stories. Everyone who talks to me for any length of time at all will have to suffer through a "My Mom is the Greatest" rant at some point.

I always say my Ma is much cooler than me, and that I hope to be as cool as her when I grow up. Sure, she changes into her pajamas right when she gets home from work (I think the only other person who spends so much time in a bathrobe is Hugh Hefner), but she's also crashed a wedding, and married a drummer, and risen above every adversity with so much grace it's almost sarcastic. Like, "Oh that horrible thing? It's outside with the old pop cans."

My mom had to start her whole life over a few years ago. It wasn't easy, but somehow she managed to come out of it more herself than I'd ever seen her. It was amazing to see all she could be when given the chance. At a time when I was struggling, trying to hold on to my old life that didn't exsist anymore, she was pushing forward like a bull toward a matador, and she let me ride on her back. She carried me, without knowing it, and sometimes I lead her, with my red cape, not even caring that when we charged it often turned out that nothing was there, just as long as we were charging. Together.

Now we are apart. As I type she is on the road back to Kansas getting further and further away. We shared a tearful goodbye, and she said, "Just because the team is apart doesn't mean we're not a team."

Thanks, Ma. For everything, big and small. I wish I had enough to repay you, but even my love isn't enough. All I can promise is that I will make you proud.

And that love can bridge even 600 miles.