Column: A love letter to my mother

Dear Mama, ?This is my belated Valentine’s Day letter to you, and to all of the mothers who do not get enough credit.

Last week, I spent less than 24 hours in a sleepy southern town, a bit like the one you raised me in, except less hip and more conservative. I was interviewing for a job that would take me far away from home for two years. I felt scared preparing for my next step, but I know that it is now the time for me to commit to doing what I believe in as soon as possible.

The interviewers asked me questions about my values and how they qualified me to do social justice work. I spoke about my father.

It was easy to speak to his influence. He taught me to view a person as more than the worst thing they have ever done. He has fought for his beliefs with humility for three decades. I told the interviewers how I feel a stronger urge every day to continue his life project. Although he may not live to see the end of the death penalty, I believe I will, and I plan to do everything I can to make that happen.

But this is not a letter to my father, it is a letter you.

I want to say I am sorry to you, Mom, because I did not speak about you in my interview, and I do not offer you enough praise in general. I want to apologize because the world has never understood the force for justice that you are, like it has for my father.

A few weeks ago, the conservative Civitas Institute created “Mapping the Left,” a website outlining the magnitude of progressive causes in North Carolina. My older brother and father had the honor of being profiled.

Little did Civitas know that you are the chief agitator in our family. A tireless organizer for voter registration and a Moral Monday arrestee, you have always put your body in line with your beliefs. Your passion and energy have been a model for my own pursuit of justice.

At home, you serve as our undeniable political leader. In a society where women have to show extra love in order to receive it in return, you have carried the burden of love for a family of three men. The Rose men, like most men in this world, have a lot to learn about returning the love of the women in their lives. I know this to be true because you ingrained it in me.

I called you to tell you I was writing this column, and you expressed gratitude, and you told me this: “I hope you don’t make me out to seem long and suffering.”

That is not my intention in writing these words. I know that you have led a full and inspired life.

But I finished this letter sitting in a cafe, thinking about all the times you got me a Valentine’s gift and I forgot to do the same, listening to 2Pac’s “Dear Mama,” on repeat, tearing up at the refrain:

“There’s no way I can pay you back. But the plan is to show you that I understand — you are appreciated.”

Happy belated Valentine’s Day to all mothers, unheralded warriors for justice.

Love, Seth.