Gifts of Remembering

It’s becoming harder to keep up Mom’s blog but Christmas time invites endless trips down memory lane. I cherish and re-live the memories and realize they are my Christmas presents from Mom. We had a long life of good times together but, the years we spent together before she died were the closest. It was a time of intimacy and friendship that was just for the two of us to share. I realized during those times I would one day look back and be grateful. There was something happening that would really never ever be taken away. I can still hear Mom saying “Live each day and live it well” and we did. It was a time in my own life when I could pretty much drop everything and be 100% for Mom — but I knew it wasn’t just for Mom. We had fun, we laughed and we renewed each others lives.  My memories are my treasures. Now I see mothers and daughters together in stores, restaurants— in public and I can relive a certain joy. I watch my own friends with my heart as they spend time with their mothers knowing more than ever what a special time it is. It’s never really completely lost.

This year my thoughts are even more on Mom’s friends and the loving bonds they shared. She was always available with her certain sparkle because she loved people and could be positive in any situation. Often I would think she didn’t even know how to say the word “No.” She always put everyone before herself never wanting credit or attention. She once told me a story from her childhood when she was excited to be able to buy a new dress but she wanted her best friend to wear it first. When I asked her “Why?” she was never able to come up with a answer. She did say that she wore the dress later.

Anyone who her knew for very long had tasted her peanut butter balls. This Christmas they may even be wishing there was a little box of them under their tree. She probably made a thousand of them. It was a tedious process that was usually broken into a two day process.  But, she always seemed to just lose herself while she was making them. I don’t think I ever saw her actually eat one but she loved making them —just to give them away. She encouraged me to make them. This is something I have still not been able to pull-off, mostly because I don’t seem to have her patience.

Every year she watched The Sound of Music like it was the first time she’s ever seen it. And always repeated the story of how I insisted that we go into San Francisco to see it because I had loved seeing it so much. That was in 1965. Her New Year’s Eve tradition was to watch Dick Clark and she always managed to stay wide awake until midnight. And now as the new year approaches I find a certain comfort in new ways I will live on with my mother.