Mother's Day!

It is Mother's Day

my mom won't see this blog but I've made her a pretty card for the day. . .

My mom has always looked like a million dollars. The first time my husband saw her, she was in a red dress and looked like Jessica Rabbit and he said he decided to marry me then. I thought that she was a movie star until she took me to her work where she was a commercial insurance broker. The image was shattered until she explained to me what it meant to insure businesses. Then I decided that she was like Florence Nightingale of businesses and I was proud of her. She had better taste than anyone I knew, dressed to the nines all the time and was classy. One day we went to a really swanky restaurant for lunch-- I think that I'd had an eye doctor appointment-- and the waitress was rude to us and everyone else. My mom left a double tip and complimented the maitre d' in front of her and told him how she brightened up the room with her presence. The waitress' face lit up and later my mom went back and that told her how her life had been falling apart that day and how she had been afraid that she'd loose her job but found the ability to smile after my mom's compliment. (It wasn't that she was rude-- she was sad!) My mom was NOT understanding at home, but I appreciate how good she was to people. She had money and lots of it and she helped other women out all the time in small ways.

My mom used to take me figure skating at 4:30 every morning in spire of working 12-16 hour days for her clients. It wore her out and I was too oblivious to know. I pay her back by taking her granddaughters and grandsons to their own early morning practices.

She had a disdain for my teachers. I thought she was a snob until fairly recently when I told her that the kids' teachers seem to want me in volunteering all the time when she told me about how my teachers always asked her to come in and volunteer. She was overwhelmed with her own life, oversaw her own employees as well as he own book of business and they rebuffed her over not wanting to come in.

My mom was an artist-- I remember her scribbling one day and seeing it and I saved it for years. It was of tree branches and a sunset. She is going back to that. Sadly but good for her-- since my dad died, she doesn't have to babysit him and his horses. She is dating someone who inspires her and knows when to leave her alone. She is now encouraging me and putting me in touch with a few artist friends and we are exchanging ideas. We like each other now.

I like how my mom has aged. She sent me a pic of her in tight jeans, leather jacket and a bobbed hair do. I sent it to my husband and he said, "When did you do this and not tell me?" She still looks like she is 40 or younger. I have been blessed with her genetic make-up.