On Tuesday, I bit into a roasted brussels sprout and thought I was eating candy. The outside leaves were tart and crisp. The inside was soft, sweet and melted away. I immediately thought to myself, “This is so good, I could eat it for dessert.” My mom used to say that.
On Wednesday, I was wiping my counter with an old hand towel. It was so thick and cumbersome, I was making the counter dirtier than when I started. With scissors, I snipped it in the middle then tore it in two. The sound of the towel tearing released another cathartic memory. Ripping towels to make rags…my mom used to do that.
On Thursday, I decided to have a glass of wine while I was making dinner not caring that it was only 4:00 in the afternoon. I said to myself, “It’s five o’clock somewhere,” and toasted the air. My mom used to say that.
On Friday I heard a song with a mix of rock and gospel. I found myself moving my hips — a slight hip swing to the right with a little bounce then a slight hip swing to the left with elbows bent and hands swaying along. My mom used to dance like that.
On Saturday, it was my mom’s birthday. She would have been 93. I guess she was channeling me all week. Happy Birthday and Happy Mother’s Day, Mom.
To all the mother’s out there and to their mothers and their mothers and so on and so on: let their memories live on through us!
Happy Mother’s Day To All!