For My Deserving Mom

Pride

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The next morning, as was my usual Mother's Day tradition, I got up early and made breakfast for Momma and my brothers.

I cook every Mothers Day, since I'm the only sibling even remotely interested in cooking. My brothers couldn't care less about doing anything related to the kitchen, ever, aside from eating,  of course. As my brother, George always tells us, "The kitchen is woman's work. It's no place for a man."

Anyways, I began to prepare my mom's favorite: eggs-sunny side up, cheesy grits, bacon, sausage patties, honey butter biscuits, and sliced avocado.

George got up while I was still cooking and came into the kitchen. I asked him what he was doing, and he said he just wanted to give me a hand. I told him something must be up because I knew he had no interest in doing "women's" work.

After a couple minutes of my prodding, he finally relented and admitted that the real reason he was up was that he wanted to talk to me one-on-one before everyone else got up.

He started the conversation by telling me that he felt like he was losing his closest sibling. I assured him that wasn't the case, but he kept saying if this was permanent, then he absolutely had lost, not only a brother but his best friend, because he couldn't see having anything in common with a girl, a sister. He said he wouldn't be able to relate to a girl. At one point he even began to tear up as he pleaded with me not to do this.

While we waited on the biscuits in the oven, I sat him down and tried to convince him that I would still be the same person, the same personality with many of the same interests as before.

I told him we could be just as close as before and enjoy many of the same activities; movies, music and other interest we always have. I promised him we absolutely could still be best friends if he would just give it a chance. The only difference, I told him, was that now when we went to do those same things together, I might be wearing a skirt or leggings or a pair of skinny jeans with cute designs on the pockets and makeup on my face and that other guys might try to flirt with me in front of him.

He looked away when I said that last line. I don't think he liked the thought of guys checking me out.

At one point, I took hold of his hands and held them in mine as I talked, in an attempt to comfort him. I noticed him looking down at my manicured nails and I could tell that it made him uncomfortable to see dainty glittery gel nails on the hands of a person that, up until now, had been his brother.

As our conversation progressed, he began to open up and ask questions. He had several and I was able to help him better understand what I was doing and why.

At one point I stood up and cracked the eggs into a large frying pan. We continued to talk while the eggs cooked.

Once the eggs were plated, George gave me a big hug and said he felt a lot better about all of this now that he was able to kinda understand how I felt and the reasons I had for doing it.

He told me that he still wasn't 100% on board but even still he was proud of me for, in his exact words, "having the balls to actually go through with this, not only for mom but for myself as well."

He also assured me that he had my back and wouldn't let anything bad happen to me as a result of my decision.

When I got the biscuits out of the oven, we began buttering and stacking them on a plate in the center of the table. Just as he placed the last biscuit on the plate he paused for a moment then told me he thought that not only was my happiness important, but it was also awesome of me to do this because mom deserved it.

Once all the breakfast preparation was done, George went to wake everyone else while I finished plating the food and pouring glasses of milk and juice.