Having said that, I hope that dear old Mom won’t mind if I pay a small tribute to her today. After all, it isn’t Mother’s Day today, right? Right.
Mom – I just want to tell you that I love you. I appreciate you. I don’t know what I will do without you.
Me and Mom, 1967
Even though we have butted heads about things in the past, and will in the present and the future, I want you to know that I appreciate everything you have done for me. When Daddy died, I know that you wanted to pack up the house and move to Washington to be with your mother and your brothers. I was going to be a freshman in high school that year and didn’t want to start yet another new school. I wanted to stay in California with the people I had come to know as my friends and the ones that I finally felt at home and comfortable with. You made the sacrifice to stay where we were so that I could finish school where I felt comfortable. I didn’t realize then how hard that must have been for you, but I did understand later. Thank you so much for that.
I know that you think that I don’t read or appreciate all the little articles that you clip and mail to me; all the things about money and finances, migraine headaches, and identity theft; weight loss and the benefits of vitamins; depression; etc. I do read them; some of them get saved in my “important stuff” files that I have; some make me laugh, some make me mad, but I know that you were thinking of me and my well being when you read them.
I love the two volume cookbook that you made for me, full of recipes from my grandmother, my great-aunt, my aunts and uncles; recipes that were Daddy’s favorites. I love all of the little pictures that you painstakingly cut out of magazines and catalogs that are of things that you know I love, and things that make me smile and laugh. I remember that day when they arrived at work, without warning, and how I showed them to everyone and cried all day because I was so touched by them. I still haven’t made any of the recipes yet, but I love to take them down off the shelf and just look through them.
Me and Mom in my great aunt Ruth's pool, 1968
I know it isn’t enough to say, “Thanks for everything, Mom.” But, thanks for everything, Mom. I love you.