It is odd to actually not have a living mother to send flowers to on Mother’s Day. I keep her photo on my laptop because I need to look at it every day. It is my third Mother’s Day without a living mom and it does not seem to get any easier. It just sort of stays sad. I know how much she loved being our mom. She loved all four of us. She was devoted to us. She would do anything in the world for us without question. She would stay up with us when she was tired and laugh with us and eat Peanut Buster Parfait’s with us late in the evening. She was up for doing stuff with her kids. My dad would go to bed but she would stay up for the fun. Everyone who knew her thought she looked young and beautiful. Everyone thought she was clever and funny. Everyone loved seeing her ride all over town on her bike…her beautiful red bike. My dad was forever fixing her tires and keeping it in riding mode for her. When she needed a new one he searched everywhere for one with wide tires and no hand brakes…just a regular plain bike with a basket. Her bike is still at my sister’s house. None of us can part with it. When my sister and I were little she would let us play beauty parlor with her hair. We would brush it and put stuff in it and she would pretend to pay us for our services. We loved it. We had a box with all of her hair stuff in it…curlers and combs and bobby pins.
We used to tease her about her Saturday routine. It was her only really inflexible day. She would do her hair in the morning and get her clothes ready for Mass at 5 o’clock. She wouldn’t go out or do anything all day long except sort of wait for church. If we didn’t go with her we would wait for her to come home…she would always be late. She would stay to talk to friends or our priest. Sometimes she would tidy the church pews…she would collect the Mass books and water the flowers…she would stop at a neighbor’s…she would wander the town…it was her time…those hours after church. She was funny that way.
Then when she finally came home she would change her clothes and put on something comfy and we would make snacks and sit on the front porch and talk. She kept this same Saturday routine even when we were married and only back for visits. We often teased her about it… not realizing then that it was her day, her time and she really didn’t want to change anything about it. So we would wait for her to come home…when we were there she would shorten her visiting but we could hear her as she was walking down our sidewalk proudly telling people she was in a hurry because her “kids” were home. She would hurry in and change her clothes and Dennis would get in the car and drive up the street to bring us Peanut Buster Parfaits. The three of us would sit on the front porch and eat them while my mom continued to say…I can’t eat this whole thing and then in seconds it was gone…in all of its fudgey goodness. My mom loved chocolate…more than anyone I ever knew.
I miss my mom. I love our memories.
Happy Mother’s Day!!!