Mother's Day. It comes around once a year and it can be the hardest day of the year, bringing with it sweet memories and sadness, too. Sometimes I miss my mom so much I can't begin to pull it together. And really, it's been 41 years. I should be over this by now. (I know. You don't get over it. You just learn to work with it.)
I've been going through old files, scrapbooks, dusty boxes and anything else that might have family memorabilia in it for my genealogy project and I came across this poem.
OK. It's not art. It won't win any poetry prizes.
But I'm pretty sure my mom loved it.
We learn a lot of things from our moms and from mine I developed a love of all things creative -- art, theatre, music, crafty things; I learned to love cooking and improvising in the kitchen; I learned laughter and joy, love of family, the lake and the importance of friendships. She stressed how important it was to give back to your community, to others. I hope I also learned how to die. We'll find out someday -- hopefully not soon. Courage, strength, humor, love, grace under pressure.
Or, to paraphrase Joni Mitchell, "You don't know what you got till it's gone."
To all you moms out there, young and old, Happy Mother's Day. What you do matters.
Well, autumn is officially here. I see it at the farmer's market with the shots of color: pumpkins, tomatoes, zinnias. (Oh, and because ...
I recently passed by my old elementary school -- the place where I walked daily, five blocks from home. The place where I learned to read an...
The trouble with leaving for a trip in early October is that I'm just not ready to go full-fall in the decor line. But when I return the...