As I pondered ideas for this post, nothing came to mind that was more timely than a tribute to my beautiful mom. March 16th marked the one year anniversary of her passing. The fact that I am still drawing breath is a testament to my wish to honor her by living each day to its maximum capacity. Curling up in the fetal position and sucking my thumb would have felt awesome at moments, but that would neither have brought her back nor aided my frame of mind much.
My mom was born in 1927, in Birmingham, England. She lost her own mom to childbirth several years later. It still makes me sad to think of her growing up with just the barest sliver of memory to adore and long for. Silly really, considering they’re both gone now.
I mention this bit of her past mainly to highlight the fact that her not having a mom made me so much more aware of what a blessing she was. I mean the woman drove me mental at times (and I her, no doubt), but I never took her for granted. This is a mom who would literally stand in the kitchen like a short order cook and make something different for each of us. She cooked, she cleaned, she did laundry and the ironing!! Oh my god, the woman ironed socks, y’all, and cloth diapers… She ironed EVERYTHING!! She was a domestic rock star.
Between the war and some subsequent hard times financially, I wonder what she would make of the Year of Austere. I know she would think that our version of austere looks pretty damn cush, but I think she’d see the value in what we’re doing. Of course, she loved me unreservedly and unconditionally and was slightly biased about how awesome she thought I was, so even if objectively she thought the idea was lame, she would have warmed up to it. She was amazing.
I sure miss my number one fan. No one has your back the way your parents do. Glenn and the kids come close, but I’m pretty sure they don’t think the sun shines out of my bum. And it does. My mom would have told you.
I know we all have a tendency to be critical of our parents and to view them through 20/20 laser vision goggles and I do the same. What I come away with every time is a deep appreciation for lazy contraception, a heart full of gratitude for the parents that made me feel loved and an abiding respect and admiration for their mad parenting skills. They rocked it.
One day, I’ll share my dad with you. You would have loved him. My mom? Maybe… If she thought you were worthy to be my friend, she would have approved of you. What more can I say? If she was on your team, she had blinders on to any flaws you might have. If she wasn’t, she had a freaking microscope on those babies. Lucky for me, as I said earlier, I was responsible for the sun shining. Out of my bum, no less. On that note, good night! Love your parents. Us orphans should be so lucky. s.