For my mother, on her 60th birthday

I don’t remember the day when I first realized my mom was a woman and not just my mom. Perhaps it was the day that she went shopping for a new suit to prepare for arguing in front of the Supreme Court. Or maybe it was the day I found, in an old photo album, a black and white head shot from her early 20s and almost cried at the image of such a beautiful, stylish woman. Or it could have been the first time we shared a bottle of wine and laughed long into the night.

Probably it is an ever growing realization. She is a strong woman: of that I have never had any doubt. Defense attorneys would tremble when facing her in the courtroom, and she has never backed down from a life challenge. It was in the midst of battling breast cancer that she set the goal of hiking the Grand Canyon, a goal she accomplished less than a year after her last treatment. No doubt about her mental or physical strength.

And her power of negotiation is a wonder to behold. She possesses an unstoppable combination of complex reasoning, pure eloquence, and endearing charm. People not only give her her way, but come away feeling better for having done so. Though it infuriated me as a teenager, I now find myself attempting to emulate her.

But these qualities weren’t the ones that surprised me when I discovered my mother is a woman. In fact, they may have blinded me to her deeper qualities, those closer to the core of her being: passion and tenderness.

My mother, as it turns out, is not only strong, courageous, and determined, but she also pours her heart into the people and things that she loves. Her children have never doubted

for a second that she is on their side, cheering the loudest and crying even more than we do when we lose. Her friends value her intense loyalty and steadfastness, for they know and feel a love that is full and tenacious where it chooses to love. Professionally, she has consistently chosen the path that follows her heart rather than the money, which is why she has laid aside practicing law in order to teach it. And now she pours herself into her students, whether it is accompanying one to court who has been harassed by the justice system, or bringing one who lived thousands of miles from home to her own home and family for Thanksgiving.

I suppose it is natural that one who is so passionate is also tender, but this is the one I forget the most. It is difficult to remember that this strong, powerful woman can be wounded. And so sometimes I slip and say a harsh word, and immediately see the hurt in her eyes. Or I will hear the pain in her voice when she relays the story of discovering that a few of her best students cheated on an exam. What is truly amazing is that each time her heart hurts, she become not colder or more callous. She does not build impenetrable walls around herself. No, she instead becomes more compassionate, loves even more deeply, and continues to extend herself to those around her.

These qualities combine to make the most incredible woman I know. The day that brought her life to earth is to be celebrated indeed, for my mother has made the world a more beautiful, more joy-filled place, and will continue to do so for many years to come.

Happy Birthday mentor, friend, hero, comfort, mom. I love you.