My mother is here this week, helping with spring break child care duties. I love having her near! I so dreadfully wish my parents hadn't moved away several years ago. It's rewarding to be a woman and friend of my mother as a grown up. But I can't forget the way I idealized her as a child. Several times as I watched her with my own children, I've thought about the way little-girl-me saw my mother.
She was the most beautiful woman in the room. I knew from an early age that my mother was gorgeous. None of my friends' mothers wore makeup and sparkly jewelry. I didn't notice any other dads bringing their wives flowers or taking them on dates. Surely this woman was special.
Any ordinary day could become extraordinary because she would celebrate the little things. Candles at dinner, sparklers on New Year's Eve, wake-up songs (NOT appreciated in the teen years), birthday parties that would be Pinterest-worthy today and always flowers growing somewhere. I can still smell her scent of choice and remember the way men would notice her while we were out together. She has always known how to 'work it,' even when that wasn't a thing.
Everything could become something FUN with my mother - from pretending we were pioneers while raking leaves to racing to beat a clock while cleaning our rooms.
Part of the mystery of my mother when I was a child was that she wasn't all about me - she had her own agendas, meetings, lunches, friends, responsibilities and tasks. I admired that she seemed so capable.
Of course, these observations were the inflated ideas of a little girl who idealized her mother. Yet, as I've grown and even witnessed her interactions with my own children I appreciate more of who she is as a woman and mother/grandmother. What an amazing thing it is to give of yourself to others! Thank you, Mother!
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