I want to tell you a little about my Mother, who died a number of years ago, wearing her peignoir set of the moment (hers were always quite elegant, not terrycloth). She and Dad were going to bed and she collapsed on the stairs ahead of him and died. She was 86. I think.
I have one brother, a retired doctor, the apple of her eye.
She had one little girl, me.
Here is what I suspect she wanted, based on my childhood (which was great, by the way.)
A little girl to sew dresses for, who would wear them happily.
A little girl to teach Ballet to, for that is what she did for awhile.
A little girl with interest in sewing, for she was an excellent seamstress.
A little girl who read and loved poetry and the written word, for she certainly did.
A little girl who liked to cook.
One who kept her room neat and clean.
One who happily took her bath every day.
One who played nicely with other children and did not hit them with bricks when they failed to let her be "teacher" when they played school.
And here is what she got:
A kid who carried dead squirrels around at the age of 3 because the neighbor shot them for eating his roof and then gave them to me.
A kid who dragged home every cat and dog she found.
A kid who took "short-cuts" home from school to meet dogs.
A kid who wanted a horse.
A kid who crawled around the front yard on her hands and knees whinnying (I was quite good, actually) and eating--yes, really eating-- grass.
A kid who hated dresses but loved levis.
A kid who played "War" with the boys.
A kid who lived for horses and dogs.
A kid who loved poetry, the written word and could read at 4 yrs old.
A kid whose room not infrequently caused my Mother to burst into tears.
A kid who never quite got the hang of what Mom wanted when it mattered.
But we loved each other, and I miss her.
Happy Mother's Day Mom, you did a good job with some crappy material.
Sunday, May 13, 2012
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