Mom

Today is my Mom's birthday. I was thinking about her last night... and I was thinking about how I've always objectified her. To me, she's always been Mom. I don't have much idea of what kind of person she was. I've heard stories... about dying her hair green and making green pancakes for St. Patrick's day... about her favorite song being Queen of the Silver Dollar by Dr. Hook. But honestly, I'm not sure which stories are true. What I realized last night is that she was just a person. She made mistakes, she had struggles. She was human. Strange revelation.

I will be 37 in a matter of weeks. My mom died 23 years ago. That's a long time... I wonder things about her. What did she like to do? Did she have hobbies? Did she like photography? What was her favorite color. What was her favorite food... favorite drink... what are all the puzzle pieces that made her who she was. Perhaps I will never know.

I don't have many memories of my mom as a person. She had MS and was bedridden from the time I was 9 til she died. And perhaps I will always wonder about her. We used to read her letters from my sister, Lynda... Mom couldn't speak, but tears would roll down her cheeks. So, I know she could love. And I'd venture to say from other things that she loved very deeply. I'd like to think she was passionate... that she enjoyed life to it's fullest. Of course... I don't know that. But I think I do...

Anyway, I'm rambling... I don't usually remember her birthday. Today, though, I feel a sort of peace about it.