Remembering Mom on Mother's Day Weekend

Mother's Day is "one of those days." And this year, it comes only a few days after what would be her 97th birthday and only a couple of weeks past the 38th anniversary of her death. Needless to say, I have some very clunky emotional moods and moments in spring. (And yes, it gets easier and no, it never stops.)

I got my cooking passion from mom!

So, please indulge me while I share a few of my favorite photos of my mom, who left all too young and missed oh, so much.

She didn't know when this photo was taken that 40 years later our cottage would be next door to this wall

She was the third of four sisters and for a brief few years also had a younger brother. Throughout their lives they were close, although one sister died when I was only five and her children, all under 13. (The oldest, however, lived well into her 90s.)

At the lake -- Mom is the one laughing in front.

On Grace's wedding day with my grandparents

Gracie, here, died exactly seven months after my mom. I was 25, Grace's kids younger. So most of my cousins have had full lifetimes without our moms to share them with.

I love the old photos. They tell stories of my mom that I remember hearing. I wish I knew more. Some of the photos are stories in themselves. I'm told this photo was once used in an Oldsmobile ad -- it's Mom with her mom and brother. I'd love to find the real ad!

I don't know what it was about old cars, but I love these photos, too. They tell stories, they tell of a time.

I think she was older in this one -- not much. But the faded color leads me to believe this might have been a bit later.

There were times at the lake with her friend Fran. I cherish my visits with Fran who reminds me so much of the vitality and energy of my mom, the mom who would have made it to 97 years. The first person I go see when I get up north is Fran and I'm always delighted with the stories she shares.



But as much as I love these classics, my favorite photos are those from my lifetime. Mom and Dad loved hanging out with my her sister Grace and Marty. All gone now, but oh, the fun times. (None of us can remember why they were all dressed up while at the lake!) No one ever laughed more than my parents when they were with my aunts and uncles. One night while playing cards on the porch, my cousins and I heard continual merriment as the adults took an evening float-boat ride and passed the house more than a few times, the laughter and merriment increasing with every passing moment!.

A rare dress-up photo from the lake

At a wedding where we only knew each other -- Maybe it was more fun that way!

My mom adored Christmas. The house was always decorated to the hilt. Yes, I inherited that addiction. And the ornaments.

I also still have -- somewhere -- my dad's ugly Christmas pants and mom's skirt. Couldn't let that one go (Actually, these aren't the really ugly pants. Those were plaid.)

She was incredibly brave through her cancer and made wise, tough decisions during my childhood (along with my dad) that helped shape the person I am today. She loved to laugh and she loved presents and celebrations. She loved road trips, the lake, her family, everything I ever did, my friends, beautiful jewelry, England, cooking and fun.

But most of all, she loved Dad and Me.

How I wish I could take her to lunch for her birthday, find her the most fun presents, take her on a special day out or enjoy another trip to England together.

She carried her cancer with more elegance, grace, hope and optimism than anyone I've ever met.

She taught me to deal with things -- pain, bad days, fear. To be able to share them but not obsess on them -- at least, not too much with others. She taught me how to live while dying. When she was in the hospital there was always laughter, sleepovers, guests. I asked her once if all that tired her out and she said "I'll get my sleep."

So, here's to my mom -- and to all of you who are mothers or have their moms still. Yes, they all can be annoying or aggravating at times, they make mistakes, the can drive us nuts. But they gave us a great gift by bringing us into this world. They lived lives we'll never really know or understand because every time or era, every situation is different. But they are our moms, and they deserve a day. This day.

And if you are lucky enough to still have one, ask them about their lives, their childhood, take them to dinner or call. Because some day, you won't be able to -- and you'll really wish you could.