The Mother of All Days
She comes around every year and has a way of stopping me in my tracks. A mixture of gratitude and grief, timing and tragedy, love and loss. (note the deliberate order of those comparisons).
Elaine. The queen of the glass half full. Even when she couldn’t find the glass anymore she fought her way back to being the one who saw the world through the most enchanting lens. Every friend described her as their person. Every flower flourished at her hand. People referred to her as their second mother, but only two of us were lucky enough to call her mom.
Today I will choose to celebrate the great fortune we had to be her kids. Every move I make she is on my shoulder. Ingrained in my being is the essence of a woman who taught me how to be a mom. She tempered my erratic side and nurtured my creative one. I work to be the example she set.
She left me with the most delightful journals. Articles, tidbits, writings… every one of them I can hear her voice reciting. In honor of having the mother of all moms, I will share some of my favorite Elaine-isms this Mother’s Day:
Be nice. (to which we would always say, be a radio… unclear why).
How to take out a splinter with an onion (for real… she loved Prevention magazine).
Look out for your brother/sister. They will always have your back (easy).
Make sure you have some younger friends (I love this & you people know who you are – thanks for looking out for us geezers).
Don’t put hot matzoh balls in cold soup (learned this the hard way).
Go with your gut (in a year when my gut seemed to be on hiatus I am happy to report it has returned with vaccines).
Always be the kind of friend you want to have (this goes with: be honest but tender at the same time).
Don’t do/eat/touch/pick at… THAT. (when I knew THAT was going to be a problem for me).
Let the kids make mistakes, but be there for them when they fall down. (literally for the littles, metaphoric for the bigs)
But the most important one of all was to love. Big. Fully. With gusto. And make sure that those you love, know it.
Happy Mother’s Day to all the moms. Remember, yours is always there, even if you can’t touch her. And to my kids, for tolerating the combination of their sweet Gram inside their crazy Mom.
beautiful Amy….plus, I never knew not to put the matzah balls into cold soup…..Damn, but why? My mom never reminded me of that one. xo.
Well, my dear Katie, the soup sours if it is cold when the hot matzoh balls hit it. It was not a good day.