Since I can remember, I always called my daddy, Daddy. I don’t know why, but since I can remember, I would call the woman who gave birth to me, Mother.
This changed a few years ago.
One day while eating at a restaurant, “Mother” asked me why I didn’t call her “Momma” and I didn’t have a clue. After listening to her, I realized she thought I didn’t feel as close to her as I did Daddy, not with the same loving tenderness as I had for my daddy.
I grew up calling both paternal and maternal grandparents: Papo and Grandmother, not “Granny” or “Mee Maw” or “Oma” or whatever. The “mother” always had a bit more formality than the men. I don’t know why.
Until that day, it had never occurred to me she felt that way. I’m glad she opened up and asked me, and I listened. I’m thankful and blessed for the time since then to call her Momma.
Now and forever, my momma she will be!