Mom. Creative, imaginative, attractive, sexy. She had a great sense of humor. A cousin described here once as a deer. Beautiful, but wary. It was an apt description. Mom gave me my love of art, beauty, music, books. She loved to read. I grew up being read to, sung to, danced with, introduced to classical music, nurtured, and – most of all, loved. What can be better?
I miss Mom. But she lives in my heart and I still feel her arms around me when I need them.
Grandmothers. I have a child’s memory of my grandmothers.
I loved and adored my paternal grandmother. She was strong, brave, resilient. She loved to garden. She would don my grandfather’s old jeans and work shirt, pull on gloves and a hat, and work in the dirt. Then she would clean up, bake, and serve delicious cakes and cookies on elegant serving dishes. Her elegance was real, not affected. She would have laughed at being called elegant. I thought she could do anything. She had to. She homesteaded as a young married woman, traveled west in a Model A truck in the 1930s, and worked hard all her life. I don’t think she had a clue how much influence she had – and still has - on me.
I always felt loved and accepted by my maternal grandmother. She smelled like roses. She wore face powder, but no jewelry other than her gold wedding band. She wore her white hair in a bun. She dressed in flowered chiffon. She didn’t flinch when Marc and I rode up to her house, unannounced, on a motorcycle after camping for two days. She saw me, hugged me, and invited us in. She showed me to her bathroom where I could shower. Her second husband Henry (my grandfather’s brother – they married after my grandfather died.) was just a welcoming. He took Marc down to his shop in the basement and they talked about building stuff for hours. I never felt judged. I felt loved. Embraced with roses.
I am a mom. It’s a hard job. The hardest imaginable. But with the greatest rewards. I love my daughters and admire them. They have both become amazing women. I think about the morning each was born. Looking into their eyes and wondering who they were. My first daughter frightened me. I was not prepared to be a mom, and she had – has – deep blue eyes that see everything. She’s an old soul. I am so happy to be her mom. My youngest has a bright soul. She was born dancing and bringing joy. I am so happy to be her mom.
And, I have 5 grandkids. Wow. I love them all. They live too far away for me to be part of their daily lives. And, I didn’t know 4 of them until they were kids. I wish I could have known them all as babies.
Thank you, Mom. Thank you, Grandmas. Happy Mother’s Day.