Parental Unit #1

My life has been fairly eventful as of late and there are a lot of things I would like to write about. But yesterday was Mother's Day and since I have an exceptionally fine mother, I will write about her first.

My mom has amazing cheekbones. They are firm and high and straight and gorgeous. None of her children got them. I'm hoping it's a recessive trait and one of my daughters will have her grandmother's face.

My mother has blue eyes and they are beautiful. I am a brown-eyed, brown haired, olive-skinned girl. I used to want green eyes and never really thought much of blue eyes. But my mom's eyes remind me of why people covet that hue and why sometimes I would like to have them myself.

My mother is kind. She taught me kindness. She is gentle and she speaks gently to and of people. She serves people all the time. I think that is a common trait among mothers, but my mother is really, really good at it. Service is never a burden for her or something she doesn't want to do. I used the word "never" because I meant it.

Every Christmas I ask my mom what she wants. She says "I want my family to be happy." When I was younger I used to roll my eyes and say, "yeah, yeah, but what do you WANT? What can I GIVE you?" It was just a few years ago that I finally understood how much she wants us to be happy--how that really is the source of her joy.

My mother loves the smell of lilacs. We had two lilac trees/bushes growing next to our house in Oregon. One white and one purple. The white bush was taller than the first storey of the house. They bloom for such a short time.

Sometimes I think my mom is fragile, but then her strength comes through and leads me when I most need it. When I am at my weakest, I want my mother.

My mom grew up in California and is a nurse. The wind at the beach hurts her ears--I think it always has.

I like to spend time with her.

I like to make my mom laugh. She likes to laugh. I have a picture of her from a few summers ago when I said something ridiculous and she is laughing completely. Her eyes are squinted, her mouth is open and she is smiling.

She has difficulties with drinking soda.

She loves to read. She loves to learn.

My mother is an excellent seamstress. Whenever I had a vision of some skirt or dress or whatever, she could always make it for me.

My mother loves children and babies. LOVES them. When the grandchildren are around, we children just step aside.

The last few years or so that I was in high school I went on walks with my mom most Sundays when it was nice outside. We walked down to Memorial Park and swung on the swings. I miss that.

She is humble.

My mom read to me and my brothers and sisters a TON when we were growing up. She loved the books with us. On Sundays I would comb and style her hair while she read aloud to me (she even let me use a spray bottle and clips. Now that's patience). The summer after my sophomore year of high school I was making a trip from Oregon to Utah and back with my parents. I had a reading list for my AP lit class I was taking in the fall. I had to read Great Expectations. I was driving for a while and I think my dad was asleep and my mom was in the passenger seat. I remember my mom reading it aloud to me as I drove and both of us cracking up about the part with the dinner party and the gravy that was supposed to give Pip solace.

My mom is awesome. The end.