Facebook is unique.
Some people love it. Others can't stomach it.
Myself, I'm indifferent toward it. Don't really have an opinion either way.
Yet, one statement caught my eye.
It's a tribute to dear 'ol mom.
It talks about impressions of mom throughout the years.
At age 16, it was "My mom is so annoying."
At age 18, it was "Hey, mom, I'm moving out."
At age 25, it's "Mom, you were right."
And at age 35, it was "Mom, can I move back in?"
I'm somewhat closing in on 35. Only three years away come July.
Here's the funny part: I told my mom I was moving back in her house after looking at my bills last weekend, and realizing that she had a lot of food inside her refrigerator. I'll be honest, my cold box isn't that full.
I was serious. My mom, Shirley, probably thought I was joking. When she wakes up one day and finds me sleeping in my old room, the joke will be on her. Maybe the laugh will be on the refrigerator because when I left home at the age of 18, I was probably 40 pounds lighter.
So on Mother's Day, or in this case, the day before - here's a special thank you to my mom for all the aggravation she has put up with.
I'm an only child, so growing up, it was just the two of us.
I give my mom a lot of credit. She was fair, although like the age of 16 above says, I probably didn't agree. I am man enough to admit now, she was right. Actually, she is right 95 percent of the time.
The work ethic part of me comes from her. She is the hardest-working person I know, and still is today, continuing to work two jobs - even though I tell her to slow down at least four times a month.
Growing up, she worked two jobs to make sure we had everything we needed. She made sure the car was running properly so I could drive when I was 16. She made sure I had a new pair of basketball kicks to run around the court in. On the cold football Friday nights, she was the one sitting in the stands with the hot chocolate after spending 10 hours at work.
She was always there. She never missed a football game or any of my concerts. Rarely did she miss one of my church basketball games. Even two hours away in Lock Haven, my mother always found a way to drive Interstates 81 and 80 to stay involved. While I was in the band at LHU, she never missed a football game in my four years, and always made it to at least two home basketball games per year.
It's the little things that matter to me.
Every Sunday, my mom still cooks our family dinner, which includes my friends when they are around. While the food is always good, it's the conversation that matters the most. Come on, you can't beat home-cooking, though. I won't lie.
When my car, which is known as the "White Ghost" breaks, the first person I call is Shirley. I'll never forget when the locks froze on me this winter, and there had to be 10 inches of snow on the ground. I was standing in our driveway, and immediately whipped out my Droid X. I call inside to my mom's house and tell her to come out and help me get my door shut. While she probably wasn't too happy at the moment, out she walked with WD-40, and away we went to get the lock unfroze.
When my roof at my home in Scranton started to leak inside by bathroom, again, out came the Droid and dialing I went. Again, it was to her cell phone. After throwing around a few profanities about the roof, she walked over and surveyed the situation. Even when I was back in Lock Haven, she was the one on the phone with the insurance company.
Because of my roof leaking, I needed a place to hold my Super Bowl party. I mean, my potty was kind of out of commission - thanks to the snow collapsing my roof. The solution? My mom's house is right next door. Let's party there. Like always, she took it in stride and ended up with 10 to 15 people in her house. She was great, and we enjoyed her company throughout.
Little things, really.
Unlocking my car when I accidently left my keys in the ignition. Don't ask how I did it.
Ironing a shirt when I need it done. You don't want to see what I would do with an iron in my Polish hands.
Making sure there is always holiday spirit around the Christmas season and that I'm somehow involved in putting up the traditional family tree.
Being patient when we set off fireworks in her yard during the Fourth of July. Hey, her yard is a little bigger than mine, and our old basketball court is the perfect place to set up those glowing fountains.
Even the simpliest thing like sitting on the front porch for two hours on a Sunday afternoon, watching car after car go up our street.
And yes, even those times when she tries to drill in my stubborn head a sense of reality.
Sunday, I will take a few moments to thank her for everything she has done. Take a few moments to show my appreciate for everything throughout the years.
More importantly, just thank her for being her. I wouldn't want it any other way.
Happy Mother's Day to all moms around The Express' three-country area.
Happy Mother's Day to my mom, Shirley. I love you, and thank you.
Tom Fox is sports editor at The Express. He can be reached at firstname.lastname@example.org.