Category Archives: Jack Fisher’s Insights

Remembering September 11, 2001

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Today is a solemn, bittersweet day for America. On this day 18 years ago, the September 11th terror attacks shook our world and our spirits. I’m not going to dig into the politics surrounding that day, nor will I entertain the many absurd conspiracy theories that have emerged in wake of it. That wouldn’t be fair to the victims of the attacks and the importance of this day in the collective consciousness off all Americans.

Like so many other major events, everyone remembers where they were on September 11th, 2001. I was in school that day. I was on my way to my algebra class when I heard a couple of teachers talking about a terror attack on New York. At the time, I didn’t know what to make of it. I didn’t even know if it were serious.

I was just a kid. Terror attacks weren’t something that happened in real life. They only happened in movies. Even when they did occur, they were never the kind that demolished major landmarks. That all changed when I saw watched it all unfold on TV. To say it left me shaken would be the understatement of understatements.

There aren’t many days in history that most people can say without question that everything changed that day. September 11, 2001 is definitely one of those days. It marked the end of one era and the start of another. It defined the generations that came before and after it. There are kids alive today who have only ever lived in a post-9/11 world. Whether they know it or not, that fateful day will affect them.

The changes we’ve experienced since that day go beyond terrorism, politics, and war. It’s not unreasonable to say that this fateful day changed the course of history. How we see the world and how we go about surviving it changed a great deal. We’re still feeling the effects of that change today, but on a day like this, it’s also worth remembering how far we’ve come.

As devastating as the September 11th, 2001 attacks were, they brought out the best in a lot of people. You don’t have to look far to find stories of real, unfettered heroism that occurred on that day. Traumatic events have a way of bringing out the worst in some people, but in my experience, the better angels of our nature tend to shine brighter on those moments.

Whether you were alive on that day or not, I encourage you to take a moment to remember the events of September 11th, 2001 and honor those who died. If you can, please consider donating to charities for the victims. There are many harsh lessons we can learn from such a terrible event, but the biggest lesson of all is this.

We survived.

We endured.

We can and will grow stronger in the face of tragedy.

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Quick Announcement: Sexy Short Stories Plans

I know Saturday is usually when I post a sexy short story. I pride myself on being consistent with updates on this site and believe me, I’ve been working on those stories. I have plenty more to tell and I fully intend to share them.

This past week, however, a few things came up that kept me from finishing a story on time. One of those things actually involves another sexy short story that I’ve been writing for Labor Day. I know I already have a Labor Day themed story, but I wanted to write another. I thought I would finish it and have plenty of time to complete another one that I’ve been working on for over a week. Then, life happened and I couldn’t.

Rest assured, I will finish. I will keep posting these sexy short stories and sharing them. I apologize that I was unable to finish one for today. I hope to make up for it with the upcoming Labor Day story. I also hope the other story I’ve been working on is worth the wait.

Thanks for your understanding and your patience. Good things are worth waiting for. Sexy things are even more worth it. I hope to continually prove that with each story I write.

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Sex Robots And Sexy Short Stories: A (Big) Response And New Ideas

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Whenever I write one of my Sexy Short Stories, I do so not knowing whether it’ll resonate with audiences. Like any other media or genre, it really is a crap shoot. You have no idea what’s going to hit and most of the time, the stuff you think will hit ends up missing.

Well, in the past couple days, I’m dealing with the biggest hit I’ve had since I started writing these Sexy Short Stories. Fittingly enough, it’s all thanks to sex robots.

It’s kind of fitting. I write articles about them. Now, my most successful short story in terms of traffic and upvotes on Reddit is built around them. To date, I’ve written three short stories involving sex robots.

Eva One’s First Test

Adam One’s First Test

My First Sex Robot

Just this past week, “My First Sex Robot” became the most successful to date. It received over 60 upvotes on Reddit and garnered more positive comments than any other story to date. On top of that, I got a considerable spike in traffic on this website, thanks to that story.

I don’t know if it’s just timing or a fluke, but there seems to be a market and an appetite for stories featuring sex robots. Since writing sexy short stories is one of my passions, I’d like to fill that need.

With that in mind, I’d like to use this opportunity to solicit input. Sex robots are an emerging technology. It’s something that most still see as curiosity or a peculiarity. I suspect they’re going to be much more than that in the coming years. I’d like to get ahead of that curve, as much as possible.

To do so, there are many questions to contemplate. This is a new technology and an emerging genre. What do you, the readers, want in a story about sex robots? I’m not just talking about sex robots being a minor plot detail. What kind of story do you want to read when sex robots are the center of the story?

Do you want to read a story that’s told completely from the point of view of the sex robot?

Do you want to read about how people and users react to sex robots?

Do you want to read about the emotional connections that these robots form with their lovers?

Do you want to read about new and unique sex acts that are only possible with a sex robot?

Do you to read about the artificial intelligence aspect of sex robots?

Do you want to read about how sex robots change or subvert romance?

Do you want to read about robots falling in love when they’re not supposed to?

I’m sure I’m missing a few questions, but that’s exactly why I’m making this post. Please, if you can, take the time to let me know what kind of stories you want me to write on this topic. I’ve already got a few other stories in the works, but I’d like to focus more on sex robots for future stories. I want to see if I can break new ground in this genre.

To those who helped make “My First Sex Robot” such an unexpected success, I thank you. Now, let’s build on it!

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How I Lost And Regained My Self-Esteem

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Self-esteem is one of those concepts that has gained a mixed reputation in recent years. To some extent, that reputation is well-earned. We’ve all dealt with people with an inflated ego. Being around them for extended periods can range from frustrating to intolerable. Some have even called the glut of self-esteem and its narcissistic byproducts an epidemic.

Personally, I think that claim is overly hyperbolic. However, I understand the popular sentiment. I was a kid around the time the cracks in the the self-esteem movement really started to show. I sat through many of those classes that espoused the value of self-esteem. I saw all those PSA’s after popular kids shows encouraging kids to believe in themselves no matter what. Even by kid standards, I thought they were cheesy.

At the same time, I was dealing with a lot of personal issues and my self-esteem was often a big part of those issues. I went through periods of my young life when I thought I could do anything. I went through other periods where I thought was a worthless waste of flesh. Going through the rigors of puberty, enduring high school, and dealing with some less-than-ideal health situations certainly didn’t help.

It was worse than this.

In short, I had a lot of self-esteem as a kid. I really believed in myself and I fought hard to affirm that belief. Then, as I became a teenager, I lost my self-esteem. I became a miserable, self-loathing hunk of living misery. I don’t know how I could’ve felt worse about myself. Then, as an adult, I got my self-esteem back and I haven’t let go over it since.

It was a roller coaster ride, to say the least. It wasn’t always a smooth ride and I found many ways to make it harder for myself. The older I get, the more I realize how misguided I was and how much of it was my own doing. I like to think I’ve learned form it. I also think the experience is worth sharing. Hopefully, others can relate. Perhaps, those who struggled like I did can glean lessons I wish I’d learned earlier.

Before I get into the details of this story, I want to make one thing clear. I don’t blame the self-esteem movement that has become so popular to bash.

I don’t blame the schools, either. I grew up in an area where the schools were great, for the most part. By almost any measure, I was lucky. I got an education that many kids in America would envy.

I sure as hell won’t blame my parents and family. In fact, they’re the heroes of this story. They put up with me at times when I was downright insufferable. My mother, my father, and my siblings did all the right things for a kid like me. I’m lucky they were there because things could’ve turned out way worse for me and I have nobody to blame but myself.

To understand where my self-esteem issues began, it’s necessary to understand the kind of kid I was growing up. For the most part, I was pretty normal. However, if there was one trait that set me apart from the other kids, it was how uptight I was.

By that, I don’t just mean I was stressed out by tests and homework. I was the kind of kid who would get anxious and upset if a school bus was late. I always had to be on time. I always had to get things done early. I didn’t procrastinate on anything. That may sound like a useful trait, but the way I went about it made it a liability.

Between being so uptight with timing, I was just as uptight when it came to grades. Anything less than a perfect score was disappointing. I had this mentality where there were only A’s and F’s and nothing in between. Again, this is not something my parents, teachers, or counselors imposed on me. This is something I did to myself.

I held myself to a high standard. I bought into the idea that just believing in yourself was enough to achieve anything. I’d read it in superhero comics. I’d seen it in cartoons. I genuinely believed I was smart and capable at a level that grossly exceeded my actual abilities. Call it inflated self-esteem, if you want. The end result was the same. When you set impossible standards, you set yourself up for inevitable failure.

My parents warned me, as did my siblings and friends. Everybody warned me that I was being too hard on myself. In hindsight, I should’ve listened. I really wish I had because it set me up for some very difficult teen years.

On top of that, this is around the same time I developed a terrible acne problem that plagued me into my 20s. I also developed asthma that made basic exercise or just a typical gym class feel like prolonged torture so on top of having an acne-ridden face, I was also out of shape. It made me extremely self-conscious of my looks and when you’re ready uptight, that’s a bad combination.

Altogether, this hit my self-esteem the same way a flame-thrower hit a wounded fly. I didn’t just lose my confidence. For a while, my sense of self-worth was hanging by the thinnest of threads. It got to a point where I just started randomly insulting myself. It wasn’t a funny kind of self-deprecation, either. My parents and siblings got downright angry with me whenever I did it, but that rarely dissuaded me.

It got bad. For a while, I had a hard time believing it would get much better. I honestly thought my self-esteem was gone and I was destined to be a walking ball of misery. Then, something remarkable happened.

It wasn’t some incredible epiphany, either. As soon as I graduated high school and entered the adult world, I found a new kind of confidence. It didn’t happen overnight, but there was definitely a transition. It started in college, but it only blossomed as I got older and gained more life experience.

I think the catalyst for that change came when I got my first taste of independence. In college, my life wasn’t so micromanaged. I could actually set my own schedule, plan my own day, and make my own choices. Granted, it wasn’t total freedom. I was going to college on my parents’ dollar. However, compared to high school, it was like getting paroled.

In this environment, I learned something critical that I hadn’t learned in high school or from cheesy after school specials. To have self-esteem, it’s not enough to just believe in yourself. You have to work for it. You have to earn that feeling of accomplishment. It’s not easy, but it’s worth doing and by achieving it, you’re going to feel better about yourself, by default.

It also helped that I became much less uptight in college. To some extent, I do blame some of the messages I got in high school. I had been under the impression that if I didn’t get perfect grades in high school, then I would never go to college and I would die poor and lonely. Even if that impression was misguided, it was such a relief to find out my failures in high school did not define me.

That Spanish test I failed in my sophomore year did not ruin my future.

That assignment I botched in my physics class during my Junior year did not decide my fate.

That may not sound like a big deal to most people, but for someone who was as uptight as me, it was eye-opening. It caused me to re-evaluate my approach to personal standards, real achievement, and how I graded myself.

Suddenly, my personal world didn’t seem so dire. There was some room for error. I could make mistakes, learn from them, and be better for it. To my younger self, that concept might as well have been an alien language. I didn’t care about the process. I cared only for the result. I had to learn that appreciating the process helped me work towards those results.

This didn’t just extend to college. It also helped with my personal life and my health. In college, I got my first girlfriend. I actually developed a social life where I made friends, went to parties, and hung out with people. I was still socially awkward. To this day, I’m still behind the curve in that respect. However, I’m light-years ahead of where I was in my youth.

Things really picked up when I started taking care of myself. Instead of just laying around, feeling sorry for myself, I started exercising. I got serious about treating my acne. I sank most of my savings into fixing my eyesight so that I didn’t have to wear thick glasses anymore. In short, I invested in myself. Like any good investment, it didn’t pay off immediately. Over time, though, the results compounded.

Bit by bit, my self-esteem returned. I had to work for it. Whether it was developing better study skills or getting into shape, I actually had to get up in the morning and make a concerted effort. I know it sounds like common sense, but to my younger self, it seemed so hopeless. If I couldn’t achieve everything all at once, then why bother? It was a terrible mindset and one that held me back.

Today, I have the confidence and self-esteem to share this story. I can even look back on those difficult times and laugh at how I acted. Some close family members will even laugh with me, even though I did not make things easy for them. They definitely did their part. They helped keep me from falling too deep into despair. It just took me a while to do my part, as well.

It would be easy for me to make excuses for my struggles. I could’ve blamed the self-esteem movement, misguided teachers, and after school specials that aired in between my favorite cartoon. In the end, they would still be empty. I still made the choices that made me miserable.

I set myself for disappointment and frustration. Nobody was going to come along and fix everything for me. Nothing was going to resolve itself, just by hoping for the best. In the end, my self-esteem was like any other skill or challenge. I had to apply myself. I had to work hard to earn the results I sought. They were hard lessons to learn, but they were worth learning.

I just wished I’d learned them sooner.

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Life Lessons From My Father: Hard Work And Relaxing

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Last month, I helped celebrate Mother’s Day by telling a personal story that revealed just how awesome my mother is. I’m proud of that story. I can also confirm that my mother read it and sent her loving appreciation that same day. She really is that sweet and I’m eternally grateful to have a parent like her.

With Father’s Day being tomorrow, it’s my father’s turn. It’s also yet another excuse to talk about how awesome my parents are and I’m not going to pass that opportunity up. Like my mother, my father is incredible and I owe so much to him. His love and support has helped me become the man I am today.

There are a lot of stories I could tell about my father. I’ve already recounted a few. There are plenty I can tell that help affirm why he’s such an awesome dad. Rather than select one, I’d like to focus on a particular lesson he taught me growing up that I didn’t appreciate until I was an adult. Since I know he reads this site too, I think he’ll agree that it’s a critical lesson that can be difficult for many.

Almost as critical as this.

It has to do with hard work and relaxation. They’re two conflicting forces, but both are critical to surviving in this chaotic world. We need to work hard if we’re going to get ahead and forge the life we want in this world. You could argue that this has become more difficult, but there’s definitely a place for it in every society.

On the other side of that coin is relaxation. That’s something we all need just as much. After all, what’s the point of working so hard if you don’t take any time to enjoy it? Relaxation isn’t just important for a good work/life balance. It’s critical to our health. As it just so happens, my dad knew how to do both.

My father, for much of his life, was a hard worker who didn’t hesitate to get his hands dirty. He didn’t just sit at a desk. He actually went out into the world, working with people and braving the elements. He was also an early riser. He was almost always the first one up in the house. At 5:00 a.m. he was out of bed. By 5:30, he was dressed and ready to leave.

As a kid, I didn’t understand that kind of work ethic. Both my parents worked, but I saw that as just something adults do. Even after I learned about making money, paying taxes, and building a career, I didn’t appreciate it as much as I should have. I’ve only come to appreciate it more as I got older.

My dad had a tough job, but he never came home looking miserable and angry. He did come home exhausted many times, but not to the point where he carried himself like a Dilbert cartoon. He seemed to take genuine pride in his work. It fulfilled him in a way that showed in how he conducted himself. He had a poise and strength to him, which he still carries to this day.

However, it’s how he managed to relax after all that hard work that has resonated with me in recent years. Part of that is due to how uptight and high-strung I was as a teenager. When I got home from school, I didn’t relax as much as I did dread what I might face the next day. If that sounds like an unhealthy attitude, that’s because it is and it caused me plenty of problems.

What I looked like on a good day.

My dad’s attitude was very different. When he got home from work, he didn’t get anxious or uptight about the next day. He just grabbed a bag of peanuts, opened a bottle of beer, and watched a baseball game while sitting on the couch. He watched a lot of other things too, but he always seemed most relaxed while watching baseball.

I often watched with him. I even helped him crack the peanuts. They’re among some of my favorite memories as a kid, watching baseball with my dad and eating peanuts. I didn’t do it quite as often when I was a teenager and I honestly believed that contributed to the misery I endured during those tumultuous times.

My dad understood those issues, much more than I gave him credit for. He often boiled things down to something that seemed too simple. He would tell me to just take it easy, relax, and appreciate things in the here and now, be it a baseball game or a “Simpsons” re-run. Me being the whiny kid I was, I just rolled my eyes at him. Looking back on it, I realize there was more to his advice.

My dad knew how to keep things simple back then. He still knows to this day and I marvel at his ability to streamline things that seem so complicated. To him, relaxation and hard work didn’t have to be mutually exclusive. You can work hard all day and still relax once you got home. It sounds so obvious, but people find ways to mess it up.

Some feel like if they’re not working hard, then they’re doing something wrong

Some feel like if they’re not relaxing, then they must be miserable and broken.

Some feel like if they try to do both, then one undermines the other.

I certainly bought into that, even after I went to college. For a while, I made work the center of everything. If I wasn’t working on something school-related, I was making other projects for myself. Relaxing just meant resting so that I had the energy I needed to do more work. It’s as unhealthy as it sounds and I think both my parents understood that.

I admit it took a long time for my dad’s advice to sink in. With each passing year, I appreciate how skilled he was at balancing hard work with relaxation. He always came off as calm, strong, and balanced. When things got tough, he kept a level head. When everyone else was stressed out, he remained the most composed. He was clear, direct, and concise with every word he said.

Those aren’t just the marks of a great father. They’re traits of a great man, in general. My father set a high bar and if I’m being honest, I still struggle to match it most of the time. I’ve gotten a lot better at balancing work with relaxation over the years, but I feel like I made it much harder than it should’ve been. My dad was there every step of the way, giving me real, usable advice. I just didn’t embrace it.

I might have been a slow learner with respect to work/life balance, but that only helps me appreciate my father even more, especially on Father’s Day. No matter how old I get, he keeps finding ways to be awesome. He never runs out of things to teach me, whether it involves relaxing or how to make the perfect pasta sauce. There’s so much I’ve learned from him and I’m a better man because of it.

Thanks, Dad. Seriously.

I’ll always be grateful for having such an amazing father. I admit I didn’t always make it easy for him, but he never hesitated to love me and support me as any father would. Whether I’m working hard or relaxing on a hot summer day, his influence helps me become the man I strive to be.

To my father and all the other dedicated dads out there, thank you for your love and support. Happy Father’s Day! You’ve worked so hard for your kids. Today, you can take a moment to relax and reflect on just how awesome you are.

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My Advice To The Class Of 2019

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This is a wonderful time of year. It’s not just because the summer heat is rolling in, the pools are opening, and ice cream is even more refreshing. For a select handful of young people, it’s the finish line that once seemed so far. At long last, graduation day has arrived. High school is ending. The last pit stop on your way to adulthood is finally behind you.

I know those in college are just as excited, but I would argue that high school graduation is more meaningful. For many kids in their late teens, it’s the first major milestones of their adult life. Finally, the legally required schooling and the rigid structure surrounding it has been fulfilled. Now, they can finally make their own choices about their future.

It’s exciting, scary, nerve-racking, and overwhelming, even for those who have fond memories of high school. I consider those people lucky. I certainly wasn’t one of them. I’ve gone on record as saying that I hated high school. It seems like the older I get, the more reasons I find to justify that hatred.

Some of that experience was my fault. I was an all-around miserable teenager, for the most part. It’s not just that I’m terrible at standardized tests and endured more than a few awkward moments. For me, the entire high school experience felt like one big personal setback. What I learned didn’t feel useful. The skills I really needed were never offered or emphasized.

I suspect others, including a few about to graduate, feel the same way. They’re probably the most eager to put high school behind them and nobody would blame them. To them, I can only offer reassurance and confidence.

It will get better. I know that sounds like bumper sticker philosophy, but it’s true. Life after high school, however miserable it might have been, does get better. Sometimes, it gets better the second after graduation because everything afterwards feels like an improvement. You still have to put in the effort, but it’s definitely worth doing. I can personally attest to that.

However, I don’t just want to speak to those who hated high school, nor do I want to overlook those who had it far worse than me. To those who thrived, grew, and matured over the course of their formative years, this is for you too. To everyone who navigated this strange and chaotic time of their youth, I’d like to offer my perspective and it can be summed up in one simple statement.

The world is an amazing place and you haven’t experienced a fraction of it.

That’s not a criticism. It’s not meant to undercut everything you’ve learned in during your high school education, either. I tell you this to remind you that you’re still young. You’ve been on this ever-evolving world for less than two decades. Look how much has changed in that brief span of time. Can you begin to imagine how much it’ll change two decades from now?

You’re part of that change. It won’t just happen around you. It’ll happen through you. You’re not just kids anymore. By the letter of the law and by the growth you’ve had to this point, you are young adults. You will have a say in how this change manifests. It may not be as large or as small as you prefer, but you will have an influence. At this critical junction of your lives, that’s worth celebrating.

Now, you’re going to hear all sorts of uplifting and encouraging messages in the coming weeks. You’ll also hear a few that are cynical and jaded. At this very moment, you can find excuses to believe that the world is going to Hell and it’s dragging you along for the ride. You can just as easily find excuses to believe the world is getting better and you’ll be among the beneficiaries.

There’s enough information out there to justify any opinion. I’m not going to tell you which you should embrace, but I will urge you to choose your attitude wisely. If you learn nothing else from the encouragements and platitudes of graduation, I hope you learn this. Your choices matter and so does your attitude. It will depend on how you experience the world moving forward.

Make no mistake. There’s a lot to experience. Whether you’re going to college, pursuing a trade, joining the military, or entering the workforce, you have an vast world before you. That world is going to challenge you. At times, it’s going to hurt. You’re going to feel offended, angry, and lost. It’s unavoidable in a world that’s so chaotic, unfair, and complex.

At the same time, it’s full of excitement, wonder, and mystery. Your understanding of the world right now will change and grow immensely in the coming years. You’ll realize how wrong you were about some things and how right you were about others. In the process, you’ll see just how much more there is to experience.

It’ll change you.

It’ll inspire you.

It’ll excite you.

Every generation likes to believe that theirs is the most important in history. While it may seem self-serving, it’s not entirely wrong. That’s because your generation is here. You’re alive now during these incredible times. You’re about to venture into this amazing world in search of your own experiences. That makes your lives, your choices, and your futures all the more impactful.

There’s only so much anyone can offer in terms of advice that every graduating senior can use. My high school experience was unique, as was all of yours. Even if you forget your ability to pass a standardized test or finish an essay at two in the morning, there are some lessons from high school that are worth carrying forward.

For one, don’t limit your perspective. Never assume you or anyone around you has all the answers. Few things in this world adhere to expectations or ideals. There will always be insights, surprises, and revelations that shatter your pre-conceived notions.

Second, embrace the bigger, scarier world before you and its flaws. Your limited life experiences make everything seem daunting. At times, you’ll want to run and hide from it. I encourage you to be bold and run towards it. With the inescapable bad comes the incredibly good. It’s worth experiencing and it’ll show you who you really are.

Finally, don’t feel like you have to go it alone. In the grand scheme of things, it’s easy to feel small. It’s also easy to feel like you have to chart your own path and relying on others is a crutch. I promise you that notion is false. Other people aren’t a liability. They’re a strength that you can and should channel, wherever your lives take you.

We’re all in this together. Young or old, we all inhabit the same world. We all work, struggle, and connect to find our place in it. I like to think I’ve forged an interesting, but meaningful path in my journey. Yes, there are things I wish I had done differently. No, I don’t agonize over them, nor should you.

All that said, I welcome you, the graduating class of 2019, into this amazing world. Today, you’ve taken the first step in a much larger journey. I can’t promise you much, but I will say this. It’s a journey worth taking.

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A Personal Story About Mother’s Day And My (Awesome) Mom

Mother And Her Son Having Fun On The Beach

For many people, Mother’s Day is only a holiday for greeting card companies and florists. I understand that, to some extent. It can feel contrived, needing a holiday and an assortment of commercial products to celebrate the heroics of motherhood. It’s still worth celebrating, especially when you happen to have an awesome mother like mine.

I’ve gone out of my way to brag about how great my mom is on this site. I don’t just do that because she’s a regular reader. She really is that awesome. She was my first superhero. She brought me into this world, cared for me, nurtured me, and taught me the value of channeling your passions. It’s not an exaggeration to say that her love helped me become the man I am now.

I haven’t always made it easy on her, but she has always gone the extra mile. She always shows me love, even when I’m being difficult. She always tells me what I need to hear, even when I don’t want to hear it. I could be having a terrible day, lashing out at anyone and everyone around me for no reason. My mother would still show me love, no matter what.

I could tell story upon story that demonstrate why my mother is so wonderful, but in the spirit of Mother’s Day, I’d like to share one in particular that I feel gets the point across better than any card or flower. It’s a memory that she knows very well and one I know she also cherishes. In many ways, it reflects how difficult and how meaningful mothers can be.

This particular moment occurred on Mother’s Day years ago. I was still a kid in Elementary School, but I was at an age where I could do more for my mother than just give her a card. We’d made plans a week earlier about how we were going to spend Mother’s Day. I made her many promises. I was going to be the one to take care of her for once.

Then, on that fateful Sunday, I woke up feeling horribly sick. I’m not talking about a headache or one too many bowls of ice cream sick. I was running a 101-degree fever and throwing up. It was bad and on the worst possible day. Instead of me taking care of her on Mother’s Day, she ended up having to go the extra mile again, caring for a sick child.

By any measure, it’s not how a mother wants to spend Mother’s Day. Instead of cards and breakfast in bed, she had to take me to the doctors and clean up after me when I threw up. It could’ve been the worst Mother’s Day either of us had ever experienced. Instead, it ended up being one of the best.

That’s because, on that day, I gained a new appreciation for everything my mother did for me. This was supposed to be her day, but here she was, caring for me as any loving mother would. At no point did she ever show any frustration, anger, or resentment. She still tended to me with unconditional love, never hesitating to smile or do whatever she could to make me feel better.

It says a lot about her and about motherhood, in general. There are times when a mother has to step up, throw away her plans, and focus all her energy on her ailing child. It’s rarely convenient. It can even happen during the times when you most need a reprieve. Between me and my siblings, my mom certainly needed plenty. She still never hesitated to do right by her kids.

That fateful Mother’s Day was a disappointment on every level. In time, though, it became an oddly fond memory for both of us. I remember it because my mom was at her best during that day. The holiday didn’t matter. Caring for me when I was sick became her top priority and she did it as well as any grateful son could ask.

Even when she brings it up, she often smiles at the memory. I think she understands why that Mother’s Day stands out among the many that came before it. Instead of a celebration, she got a chance to vindicate the value of loving moms and she did so masterfully. She has every right to be proud of how she handled that day and I’m sure she is, even after all these years.

I don’t remember how long it took me to recover from whatever illness I had that day. What I do remember, though, is how important Mother’s Day became in the years that followed. Before, it had been a formality, of sorts. After that, I felt like I had to go the extra mile as well to show my mother how much I loved her and how much I appreciated her.

This year is no different. She knows I have plans to make this Mother’s Day as special as it should be. She also knows that I’ll always treasure that fateful Mother’s Day from years ago when everything went so wrong, but ultimately revealed just how much lover a mother can give to her child. It’s a beautiful thing and something for which I’m eternally grateful.

I hope this personal story inspires others out there to show their moms some extra love tomorrow. To my own mother, who I hope reads this at some point, you deserve all the love a son can give and then some.

Thank you for being so awesome.

Thank you for being the best mom a guy like me can hope for.

To all you other mother’s out there, thank you for filling this world with your love.

Happy Mother’s Day!

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