I Remember Mama

       My mother would have been 88 years old on August 15.  She died just over four years ago, and there are days when I miss her terribly.  She was an incredible lady, strong-willed,  a good businesswoman, organized.  She didn't have much of a childhood:   she was the oldest of six children and pretty much raised them all, since her father had poor health and her mother ran a business that took her all over the country.  She had nine children, and in spite of health problems of her own, served faithfully in challenging church callings all her life.  She made us beautiful clothes when we were little--I remember dresses with layers and layers of ruffles. We joked about her wacky quacks and weird health foods.   She made meatless meat loaf and sugarless ice-cream, but in the last years of her life, she also had a stash of chocolate close at hand.  You never knew what new tangent she would take.  She and dad loved buying new "as seen on TV" items, and she had lots of gadgets.   She wasn't the stereotypical grandmother, maybe because she still had young children at home when the grandkids started coming, but she loved her grandchildren and great-grandchildren a lot.  Every year she made a new Christmas ornament for each of them.   I don't remember ever seeing her without her make-up, but I remember her advising me to stay in my pajamas if I was sick, since children think if you're dressed, you're well.  (Maybe that's how I learned how comfortable it is to just schlep around in nightgowns.)
    Larry and I listened to a song the other night, "Seeing My Father In Me."   I don't see a lot of my mother in me.  My personality is completely different, as is my parenting style and my sense of humor.  I do have a bit of her knack of seeing the simplest solutions to problems.  I wish I looked more like her--she was beautiful.   Instead, I have my dad's snub nose and bushy eyebrows.  There are  areas where I hope to grow more and more like her.  She had a strong, steadfast faith that carried her  through Dad's struggle with Alzheimer's and eventual death and through her own stroke and disablement.  She loved and supported her children, even when they made choices that she hated.  She was willing to offer help and advice, but she didn't try to run our lives.
     I love you and miss you, Mom.  Happy birthday!