In Honour of Our Moms and Mother's Day

And I do believe we are live. Hello, everybody. Hi, it's Sandy Boucher here. I'm Red Thunderbolt, woman of the Loon clan, a proud member of Seine River First Nation in Northern Ontario Trinity 3 territory. And I am here on my brand new Mac with my new microphone. Hopefully. This is just going to be awesome. There's not going to be any strange buzzing or echoing or any of that kind of stuff I was doing wrong over the last couple of weeks. It's a learning curve, trust me. So, first off, I am going to be sharing four of my favorite stories or memories of my mom today. It's totally for Mother's Day, so before I start talking about my mom, I just wanted to say happy Mother's Day to all the moms out there. However you became a mom, whether you had children, inherited children, adopted children, fostered children, acted in that role for children, whatever the case may be, even if you are one of us who have an angel child, you're still a mom and we super appreciate you. And yes, there's, you know, dads have Father's Day and we can honor other people on other days. Moms never get the kudos that they deserve, so we're gonna honor them tomorrow on Mother's Day and today in this YouTube live. I almost said podcast. I'm more used to doing podcasts now. It's been forever since I did a YouTube live in. This might be the first YouTube live I've done in 2024. I'm not sure on that. You can comment in the chat if I'm wrong. I'm totally cool with being wrong. It will not be the first time, it won't be the last. My hair is looking like total crap today. That's okay. I was just outside. It's windy. Life goes on. I'm not losing sleep over that one. So excuse me. Sorry about that. Choke on my own words. What I want to. I'm gonna take a drink here. Maybe water. Water would be a good idea. Water is so good. Okay, so before we get started, for the people that are here typing to chat where you are, I always find it fascinating how technology can put us together. You know what? I'm really not liking the, Whoa, yellow tone of my skin here. Yep, that's. Now I'm having fun with the lighting. I think that's better. I hope. I hope. Anyways, where are you from? Type it into the chat. I would love to hear while you're doing that. And yes, I can see the chat. And yes, I'm going to Watch the Chat so if you have a question, if you've watched one of my videos and I mentioned something about my mom and you're interested in learning something about her, feel free to ask in the chat. I love talking about my mom. I don't think that's a surprise to anyone who has followed my work for any length of time. But you know, what I know about my mom and what I speak about may not be what you're interested in. So if you do have a question, feel free to put it into chat. The first we'll jump into the first story while I'm watching to see you, where you guys are from and if you have any questions about my mom. The first thing I wanted to share with you today is from my latest book, I Am Awake the Size of Warren Peace. The good news is it's a daily motivational guide. So it's just a little story that you read every single day. That's why it's so thick. 365 entries. But if you're on my email list, which is Sandy at Sandy Boucher. No, that's my email. Go to sandy boucher.com, click on get on her list. It's over on the right hand side. Put in your name and every single Monday to Friday, every single morning, you get an email that has not only my video for that day, so you don't have to go find it on YouTube. I send it directly to you. But the blog post for that day in this year, what I'm sharing are the entries from this book. So by getting on my email list you could receive the entries from this book. Well, at least today on and it wouldn't cost you anything. They'd just be delivered one time a day, just saying hint hint, Hint. But the May 9 entry in the book is 100% about my mom. And it was a revelation I had as an adult. Definitely didn't come to me when I was a younger person. And if you know me, I work in the realm of reconciliation and decolonization and assimilation and as and for indigenous people, the unpacking, the realizing how colonized we have become and deciding whether we want to unpack that and go back to who we were before the others came, as the elders always say. And this entry is one of those revelations, something that I realized not only about my assimilation, but how I use my assimilation to hurt my own mom. And it was mind blowing. So I wanted to share that with you. That is the May 9 entry from my latest book, I Am Awake. So here it is. Oh, by the way, all of the entries in this book start with the words I am awake. I am alive. That's what I did for an entire year. I am awake. Meaning thank you Creator for another day. I am alive. Meaning I'm aware I'm going to watch and see all that Creator sends today. The revelation, the challenges, the blessings, the whole nine yards. So here's the entry I am awake. I am alive. And this morning I remain in awe of the clarity I receive from pondering questions on long road trips. The answers never fail to arrive, although they are rarely what I thought they would be. Yesterday's clarity was definitely not anything I saw coming. But before I explain, I have to say one very important thing. Mom, I am so incredibly sorry. So backstory I was pondering a last minute talk I had been asked to give on Friday, pondering what I would say about the differences between those of Indigenous descent and those raised with Euro Canadian views and values. One such difference I see come up often is the difference in concern between I and we. Whereas European values seem to have an individual focus, many Indigenous nations instead focus on the other the student, the next seven generations, and so on. This becomes evident in those that carry teachings someone tainted by colonialism. And truth be told, all Indigenous have been, to varying degrees, brags of his knowledge, his sacred items, or just how much he can teach. However, an Indigenous man or woman who has held on to our worldviews and values would never want the focus to be on them. Instead, they focus on what the student needs, helping those who have asked for help to find the answers on their own. This thought process led me to the grammatical English rules of teach and learn and the revelation that teach is all about the teacher and learn is all about the receiver. And that is when it hit me so hard that I had to pull over to let tears fall. She never said teach. My mother never used the word teach. She would ask what we learned at school on any given day. She didn't mean math or history. She was asking what we learned about people, relationships, or ourselves. And she would often say, go talk to whomever they will learn you. It breaks my heart to know that, thanks to a Western education, I corrected my own mom, a woman trying to use the language of another culture, one that didn't fit her values. And I corrected her. My mom, like so many I know, was focused on the student. There wasn't an egotistical bone in her body, and she wasn't about to let some grammar rule change who she was. I sat there yesterday on the side of the road, hating on an education system that had me looking down on my own mother. Education has long been weaponized to split indigenous families, and I see now that little has changed. Today, kids will go to school, they will learn math and science, but nowhere will they receive aid to help them understand their parents challenges. They won't learn or understand their parents lack of education, their unemployment, and what that does to a soul. They won't understand the roots of addictions or the multitude of other things indigenous parents have been burdened with by a country dripping white supremacy. Instead, they will learn shame and embarrassment over who their parents are as the wedge begins to separate child from parent, as assimilation whispers join us. I was left thinking that any education that divides families must be condemned and and abandoned. I was also left with the realization that my mom was so multifaceted, so amazingly authentic, so beautifully complicated that even years after her passing, I am still realizing just how beautiful she truly was. As I shed colonial interpretations, restrictions and judgments, her essence, beauty and smile just grow even more memorable. She isn't fading in time. Rather, it just took this long for me to shed enough blinders to finally truly see her. The journey continues. If you are so lucky, go hug your mom or dad today, my friend. Don't condemn what they say or do. Ask instead why. Ask instead who taught them that. And if you have a young child, ask them what they learned in school today. Instruct them to tell you if ever they hear something that distances them from you. And when it happens, armor up, prepare to do battle against anything or anyone that would split up your family. The journey does continue and I so love that we get to travel together. Thank you for accepting every little language quirk I use. Thank you for letting me speak my language even when I'm speaking English with a niche slant. I love you, Sandy. How's that for a revelation? How's that for yeah, Seriously unpacking? My mom died in 2005, so next year will be 20 years since she's passed and I'm still unpacking and realizing how amazing she is. So don't. Don't ever stop learning. Don't ever stop examining. Don't ever stop asking questions. We learn so much from the people that came before. Or if we take the time to unpack their journey and not with judgment. My mom would be the first to say, take the best, leave the rest. Forgive them their shortcomings if they weren't all you thought they should be. Instead of expectation, maybe look at what they overcome or were trying to overcome or what was limiting them from being all they could have been or. Or should have been. I know when it comes to indigenous lives, there's often behaviors that we may not admire, but those behaviors are an escape from personal history and experiences we wouldn't want to even imagine or even see in our worst nightmares. So we have to keep that one in mind. So hopefully you enjoyed. Oh, hi, Lori. Happy Mother's Day. You snuck into the room. I didn't even see you there. Thank you so much. I hope you have a super duper double delicious weekend. Whatever you're doing, I hope you heard the first sharing. I did the entry out of my book. If not, you can watch it on the replay. That's all good. The second story. We're just, just unpacking stereotypes today. And that wasn't even my intention. I guess it just happens. So for this one, you gotta go way back in time and imagine what was life like. One, if you're female and two, excuse me, if younger, 12, 13, 14, like that very young teenager when all the emotions are happening and. And you have no idea how to manage them and just that bizarre time. Couple that with the stereotypes and all the prejudices and all the opinions that go with an indigenous person consuming alcohol. Now, I am not one of those people that say, don't you ever touch alcohol? Now, of course you don't when you're doing anything ceremonial or you're near any of the sacred items. But like, this is the bottom half of Josephine, if you can see that picture. Like my elder Josephine Mandamond used to say, one, it's up to you. You're a human being. You're not a stereotype. Two, if you can drink alcohol and it is not blowing apart your life, it's not causing you to get behind on your bills, it's not causing you to say things to hurt your children or your partner, it's not bankrupting your bank account, all of those negative things, if you can do that, then who cares if you have a glass of wine? But if any of that, or if you think that's what you need to cope with, a hard week as soon as you need it, problem, problem, problem. So my mom and dad used to go out like once a year. And by go out, you got to remember I grew up in a tiny, tiny northern Ontario town of 400 people. And going out. There was a tavern in town, the Hudson Hilton, and that wasn't its real name. The Grandview Tavern, I think it was. I might have that wrong, but that was the only place to go, unless you're driving the 15 miles to silicone, you're not going to do that and have a drink. Even back then when everyone did it, my parents weren't going to do that. And the Hudson Hilton was all at five minutes from our home. So once a year it was date night and they would go out and they'd have a few drinks and come home. And I know us kids always thought it was hilarious. My mom was hilarious. After a few drinks. She loved to tell stories and she giggled a lot. And it was funny because it wasn't a problem. And it wasn't. I mean, we were well taken care of. We weren't abandoned. The house was full of food. It was none of the negativity. And my mom and I know when I turned 19, my mom wanted to take me out for my first legal drink. Now that didn't turn out that way because I wanted to go with my friends. And of course teenagers can be a little on the self centered side of things. But we did go out. And after that we would go out every couple of weeks, just me and my mom. And we'd go to that same little tavern that her and dad used to go to. My dad passed away when I was 17, so he was gone by this point. And I used to love the discussions we had sitting there. I found out my mom was human. I found out my mom was a woman, just another woman with the same fears and challenges as any other. She wasn't this image of perfection that I thought she had been growing up. You know, the woman that never made any mistakes and I was the one that made all the mistakes, that kind of scenario. And my mom drank Palm Breeze and Coke. And Palm Breeze, if you're not aware, is like an Amber Rum and, well, I guess Palm Breeze and Pepsi. Palm Breeze and Coke, whichever. And so that's what I would have. And to this day, if I'm not going to have a glass of wine, if I'm actually going to have a drink, chances are really good. It's Palm Breeze and Coke. If they have Palm Breeze, which up north. Yes. The bars and restaurants carry that. Further south, not so much. Then you're going to run into Bacardi's. Why do I mention this? Well, it was before my 19th birthday. It was, but it was. Dad was already gone, so maybe I was really close to being 19. Anyways, remember this like it was yesterday. It was a Saturday and there was no sleeping in in my mom's house. You went to bed at a Decent time and got up at a decent time. And if we were dumb enough to come home late, we were still getting up at a decent time. My mom had this sneaky and nasty habit if she suspected that you were going went out late. And as we got older, she thought that involved alcohol. It was amazing. The cleaning that she would assign you to do the next day, like, the most horrible with the strong cleansers. Just. It was going to make that hangover even worse to try to teach you. Maybe that's not a good thing to do. But on this particular Saturday, I was on hungover. I was depressed. I had broken up with the love of my life. I was positive I was never going to love again. You know, all the drama of that time and. Hi, Riverchell. Happy Mother's Day. Thank you so much. I was just moping, hardcore moping. So I remember getting up, going to the breakfast table to eat with the family, and my brothers are teasing me like always, and I'm not even responding. I'm moping like you wouldn't believe. My. You know, I'm staring into my plate. Mom is definitely picking up on this, but I'm so depressed, I don't even notice. So we finished breakfast and get up from the breakfast table, and I went and sat on the couch and continued to mope. And I remember overhearing my mom tell the boys that they needed to get out of the house, that she didn't particularly care what they were doing today, but they needed to be gone, go hang out with some friends, do whatever. Which my mom never did. Like, she was fine with us going to our friends. She was also fine with us staying home. She had never, would never ask us to leave our own home, but on this day, she did. And even though I was sitting on the couch moping, I remember thinking out of the corner, you know, hearing that, and just thinking way in the back of my mind that that's weird. Mom's never done that before. And then I went back to moping. That was all the attention I was going to give. I was depressed, and nothing was overcoming that. So I'm sitting there staring at my hands in my lap, just totally, totally enveloped in this depression. And all of a sudden, I hear a bang. Like. Like something just hit the coffee table in front of me. And I looked up, and my mom had just slammed a bottle of Palm Breeze onto the coffee table. She had my attention. My mom was not a drinker. It was a rare occurrence. I was now nervous, if not terrified. And I'll never Forget it. My mom just looked at me and she said, I have had enough. You want to be this depressed? Whatever. Okay, we're going to get this out of your system. So what we're gonna do today, I'm gonna put on my records. My mom had a huge album collection that I now have. And I mean everything from old, old Someone Shot My Dog country to Elvis to Pink Floyd on the wall or my brother's album was part of it too. So it was quite the collection. And she just announced that we are. That she was going to put on, Excuse me, the saddest record she had. The saddest music she could find. She announced that we were going to sit there and we were going to drink and we were going to listen to this music and we were going to cry and we were going to talk and we were going to do that until I had cried it out of my system. And yep, I was terrified, but that is exactly what we did. Now, I don't think we drank a lot. I'm certain we were both lightweights, but I remember spending the whole day with my mom and talking about, you know, cheating and, and falling in love and falling out of love and all of the topics that were in the songs we listened to. And I remember singing along with her and I remember CR. Dying with her. And it was just. She held space for my sadness until I wasn't sad anymore. And even though she's dark skinned, indigenous and there was so many people that would. And to this day, I. When I shared this story, I have people judging my mom for, you know, drinking with her daughter. You know what? Keep that judgment to yourself because it's one of the things, one of the memories I love the most about my mom, that she knew I was hurting and she thought this would help. And she didn't just let get me drunk or ask me to go drink it out. She was right there with me, right, asking my question, answering my questions, telling her stories, singing along with me. And the next morning I woke up and I was okay. I was probably still sad. I'm certain that took a while to get over, but I was nowhere near feeling the way I did before. So my mom just had the most unique, amazing ways of coming up with the most amazing, unique solutions. And that was absolutely one of them. And to this day, I don't think I could have a palm bees and coke and not think of my mom or that day together because it was just us. And it was amazing. So. Oh, thank you so much, Laurie. Yeah, it was. It was amazing. The third story I wanted to share with you is concerning mom's records again. That record collection that I still have, And I mentioned it in the video I did for Mother's Day about my son buying me the record player and why that upset me so much and why it turned out to be one of the best gifts I ever received in the house I grew up in. It was an unwritten rule that we all knew Sunday There was no TV till like 5 o' clock until Tommy Hunter came on and then Walt Disney. That Sunday was Mom's Day to clean and listen to her records. And if you were going to stay in the house, then she was probably gonna get you to help with the cleaning, but you were definitely listening to the records. And it was just like my mom had. Excuse me, it had to be a hundred different albums and everything. She would alternate between like Elvis and country. Just whatever she felt. It was all about her mood. What she felt like listening to and singing along was pretty much mandatory. And I can remember when she would get a new album and sometimes she couldn't make out what the sentence was. So she would ask me and we would sit there and we play that part of the song over and over and over until we got the words. Because they didn't tend to have the song lyrics written. Definitely wasn't on the Internet back then. And only sometimes was it on the inside of the album. So it was just a magical time watching mom and her albums. And then, like I said, Tommy Hunter came on. And you have to be pretty much a die hard country fan to get into Tommy Hunter. But my mom loved him and the part she loved the most. And I'm showing my age here, you would see the scene and it was just his stool. And he would come out and he'd sit on the stool and he'd read some heartfelt story that would probably make you cry. And at the end, you know, he'd get up and he'd rest his guitar against the stool. And one of the things, one of the greatest joys of my life was years later as an adult, I got to take my mom to a Tommy Hunter concert. And she was like a kid at Christmas listening to all his songs and just, just loving everything about the concert. And then he did that part and the stool was in the middle of the stage. Try not to make myself cry here. She was just so in awe. She just grabbed my hand and she was just so happy. And I got to see that. I got to do that for her. So, yeah, it was just amazing. And then Walt Disney, of course, we had to watch Walt Disney. Nice wholesome TV back then. And I grew up in Hudson, so we only had one TV channel, and that was cbc. So you were watching as Beachcombers came on later. And yeah, I'm. I'm definitely sharing, showing my age here. But it's amazing how by listening, my mom taught me by. About life, using the records as the catalyst to start a conversation. There were conversations about sex. There were conversations about relationships, about, you know, hurting, about grieving. Like, if you spend any time listening to country music, you're going to cover all of those. And I think my mom would have been too shy just to bring that forward. So she used the records to do it. And. And I don't regret a second of it, Even though there were definitely some albums I didn't. Were not my cup of tea after her passing and after the most intense parts of the grieving were over. Like, I can go pick out an album to put on now. And I know exactly which ones my mom and I used to listen to. And just hearing it is like, I remember every second of it. I remember the heat in. In the living room on a summer day of the home I grew up in. I remember the sunlight. I remember the sound of a record player. So amazing. Amazing. And to me, that is taking the best and leaving the rest. That is hanging on to those stories is not anything I'm ever going to give up. I pray. I pray I never forget them. Now, the last one makes me giggle because my mom was definitely raised to be a lady, and she most absolutely was. She was also one of those women. She would put on her red lipstick, always just red. Never wore foundation or anything, any kind of eye makeup at all, but she could put on an outfit. My mom loved to dress up on those rare nights her and dad went out and put on her red lipstick. And my mom looked like a million bucks and looked like she had a full face of makeup on and just looked amazing, which always blew me away. And I've always envied because that's definitely not me. But that was my mom. But. And my mom was a lady to. To every sense of the word. It's not. I've definitely been described as such, but it's not a goal of mine. Like, I want to be a warrior, not a lady. I have zero interest in the colonial restrictions on someone trying to be a lady. I could care. Two beans. Don't like the way I talk? Don't talk to me. Yeah, I'm not gonna worry about being ladylike. That's just not my culture. That's not my thing. Strong, independent, fierce. When it comes defending my community and family, 100. I'm there. Ladylike, not so much, but, well, not bad. My mom was a lady. She was also a dedicated partner to my dad, and they did everything together. I can distinctly remember my mom telling me that as long as she had dad, that all of us would be fine. That as long as they had each other, they could face whatever the world threw at them. I have no idea what challenge they were going through at the time, but obviously I was worried about it, and she wasn't at all. As long as she had her partner, they were going to be fine. So my dad was 14 years older than my mom. I already mentioned I was 17 when dad passed away. My dad was 51 when I was born, and I have a younger brother. My dad was literally chasing my mom around the house till the day he died. And she was giggling and not running. Those two definitely loved each other. But in the end, near, I would say the last five, maybe even closer to 10 years of dad's life, he really struggled with his health. He had all the problems with his breathing and with his heart. He really struggled. So my dad ended up having to retire early that he. He couldn't make it to 65. His health wouldn't allow that. But even before he retired, as kids were now, my youngest brother was now in high school, which meant we were busing to the next town to go to school. When we were in public school in our tiny hometown, we would go home for lunch, and mom always had lunch ready and waiting for us. But now, with all of us in school in Sulaco, there was no reason my mom was not going to see us until the end of the day. So my mom decided that in her words, dad had fielded the financial burden, carried the financial burden of our family by himself for long enough that she wanted to get a job to support him. But if you know anything about my mom or watched any of my videos, you know, through a bunch of horrible chain of events, my mom had a grade four education. It's not like she could go work in an office or whatever. So living in that tiny small town, my mom did what so many men and women in Hudson did. She got a job at the sawmill where my dad worked. And for a couple years, they both worked at the mill. Now, my dad was now a millwright, and so he's one of the supervisors walking around. And my mom got a Job working on what was called the green chain, which meant the fresh green lumber that had just been cut would come through this area on a conveyor belt. And you had to grab the two by fours or whatever they were off the conveyor belt, pack them on these huge like a pallet, but it ends up almost a square of two by fours. And then you had to push that trailer out, put an empty one there and continue piling. So long story short, my mom piled 2 by 48 foot long lumber for what, eight hour shifts, five days a week. My mom had 18 inch biceps and still the lady and still giggling. Hearing these stories of your mom, I would love to hear stories. Your dad, you had supportive parents growing up, which is really nice to hear about. Well, I guess on Father's Day I'll be doing one about dad. That would the awesome idea. Thank you so much. I will definitely do that. So you gotta picture my mom going to work on the green chain. She I used to have this most amazing picture. I don't anymore. But hard hat, like T shirt, undershirt, T shirt, heavy sweater. Because as you start sweating you start taking layers off. The green chain was outdoors. There was a roof over it, but there were no walls. So if it's 40 below, 40 above or 40 below, you're. You're in those temperatures. Work gloves and work boots and still a lady. But the story I wanted to share, that was all the backstory you needed to understand that scenario. My mom's working in the sawmill. That's so it's not. How to put this, There's a lot of off color jokes shared in the lunchroom during coffee break or lunch hour. Lots of men working there, a lot of young men working there, older men, sprinkling of women. And yeah, it definitely wasn't a church conversation, let's put it that way. And now at this time I'm a teenager, dad has passed away. So I'm like 18, 19, 20 and do I guess. No, I got married at 20. Excuse me. Gotta eat something. Always gonna eat something. So like 18. This used to happen so often. I can remember like I'm sitting in my bedroom on the end of my bed, reading a book, doing homework, whatever the case may be. And suddenly mom would come into my room. Now my room get a picture of this was at the top of a set of stairs. Like there's no door or anything there. But you couldn't see because it was quite the set of stairs. So normally if mom wanted something she would come to the bottom of the stairs. Yell up and get me to come downstairs and so she could ask whatever she wanted to ask. But every now and then my mom would show up in my room and she always had like a sneaky grin on her face when she did it. And it only took a couple times for me to figure out what was going on, when that would happen. Now my brothers would be around somewhere in the living room or outside or in their room, whatever. She was sneaking upstairs with this grin, excuse me, on her face because she had heard some joke at the mill that was most definitely an off color joke that she was dying to tell me, but she's going to whisper it to me because she doesn't want my brothers to hear. But she needs to tell someone because she thinks this joke is hilarious and dad's not around anymore. There were definitely a couple of times I don't remember any of the jokes, but I can remember a couple times thinking, I can't believe my mom just told me that joke. Like it was. And she would giggle at my reaction. These jokes, like most of them, I couldn't even repeat to my friends because they wouldn't have believed they were coming from me. But it was just, it was so cute, so innocent, so like he, he, he. You're not gonna believe what I heard. It was so absolutely adorable. And here is a woman who just got off a 10 hour shift of piling lumber with her bare hands. This is not easy work. And she's giggling over a joke. And that's what she brings home to her family. The joke, the giggling, not complaining, not, I'm so exhausted. A joke that she was dying to share with someone. And at that point, mom was the one that was now totally carrying the entire weight of the expenses of running our family. And that's what she came home with. Giggling over a dirty joke. My mom was the best. The absolute best. So, yeah, 20 years. Well, 19 years. This year, September 28th will be 19 years since she passed away. And of course I absolutely miss talking to her. But I mean the stories and the memories, it's like they happened yesterday. So if you don't think you have an influence on people for when you get to decide what the influence is, negative or positive. But it will last long, long past you if you do it right. And that's actually Anishinaabe teaching. I've mentioned several times how my home community doesn't have a cemetery, doesn't have a graveyard that we believe returning to Mother Earth as she is undisturbed is the greatest honor. So no headstones no, nothing. Because we believe you shouldn't be remembered by a headstone. You should be remembered by the memories you shared, by the stories, by the impact that you are remembered as long as people are talking. Excuse me. It's Saturday. I need to rest today. But, yeah, you are remembered. You remain alive as long as people are talking about you and sharing your stories. So mom passed away in 2005. She comes to me, comes with me to every keynote, every seminar, every workshop. She's sitting beside me as I write every blog post. She's beside me as I shoot every video. She is so much of me. Not a regret at all. And yes, as suggested, I will most definitely tell you stories of my dad. Now, obviously, I don't have as many because I was only 17 when he passed away, but there are definite stories. My dad. The fun side of my personality, the goofy side, the silly side, the. The frog. That's my dad. I get that from my dad. So pretty awesome. So those are my four stories of my mom in honor of her and all the mums out there in honor of Mother's Day. Oh, thank you so much, Lori. You are so, so welcome. I'm. I'm thrilled that I get to share my mom with people. And the reality is, she was also one of the most humble people you ever met. She would never do this. And if she was here, she wouldn't believe that anyone would ever be interested in hearing about her, which makes her even more special, because there was no ego in her game. So, to all the mothers out there, if you have a mother in your life or, you know, a great mother, I hope you're honoring her tomorrow. Spend some time with her. Send a little note of appreciation. Give her a call, whatever it is. All the moms need to be appreciated tomorrow. So. So. And even those ones that weren't great moms, let's just be honest, there's moms out there that have caused serious hurt to people. But I'm the take the best, leave the rest type. And I always rest on the fact that even those moms gave us or gave their children the one thing their children needed to succeed, and that was life. So no matter what the parent did, it's your choice to carry that on or to heal from it, to set it down, to take the best and leave the rest. And we have that power as adults. So don't carry that stuff. It's too heavy, and it's taking up space for all the good stuff you should be picking up. So I will be back to my original regularly scheduled videos on Monday and I do hope you enjoyed this YouTube live. Someone 1 of the commenters on one of my videos suggested I do one. I'm so glad I listened. And I guess the next one will be for Father's Day until next week. I love you. Take care. Bye bye.