No, It's Not Mother's Day
1. I inherited my soft skin from my mother, who inherited it from her father, my grandpa.
2. When we were first moving to New York, we stopped in at a local drugstore. My mother ran in to get something and I followed her while my brother and father stayed in the car. I was three and a half then, and my favorite colors were pink and green (hey, some things don't change). While in the drugstore, my mother bought me a little hand mirror that said SMILE on the back and was decorated with pink and green. I loved it.
3. I got busted by my father for sliding down our banister and after he finished yelling at me I went to my mother, crying. After I confessed what I'd done, my mother smiled, put her brush down, and took me by the hand into the study, where she pulled out an old photo album. To show me a picture of her own mother, sliding down a banister in the late 40's or early 50's.
4. In second grade when I was sick and out of school for several days, I got sad and started crying one afternoon. When my mother asked why, I said it was because nobody from school had called to ask after me. She nodded and then excused herself. A couple of minutes later the phone rang, and my mother yelled for me to answer it. When I said hello, the person on the other end was my mom, calling me from our other line to ask why I'd been out of school, expressing how sad she was that I wasn't there, etc.
5. My mother will claim that all the animals she draws look exactly the same (except the pig, which gets a squiggly tail), but I claim that she used to draw beautifully. For every single holiday, even the ones nobody celebrates like Groundhog's Day, my mom would draw some cute little design on paper with different colored markers and leave it on my place-mat for me to find in the morning before school. I loved those.
6. My mother was willing to spend hours after school sitting on the couch, watching me do handstand after handstand, critiquing me so I could reach my goal of being perfect.
7. Just like they do in regular public school, my hebrew school also took yearly pictures. One year I'd really liked how my picture came out, but I couldn't find any of the pictures and got all upset about it. I worked up a whole speech in my head about why I should be allowed to have one of my pictures, and launched into it in front of my mother, trying but failing to hold back tears. After a few minutes she interrupted me, took me by the hand, led me into the den where she sat me down on the couch, and she sat down on the piano bench. With a little smile, my mother said, "Now, what did you want to talk to me about?" There on the piano was that hebrew school picture, in a white frame that had a pink and green design.
8. In seventh grade my mother taught me five years worth of math in one week. Because she really is that good of a teacher.
9. When I was 18 and very sick for months and months, my mother got a Carvel crunchy cake for me that said, "Feel fine fast."
2. When we were first moving to New York, we stopped in at a local drugstore. My mother ran in to get something and I followed her while my brother and father stayed in the car. I was three and a half then, and my favorite colors were pink and green (hey, some things don't change). While in the drugstore, my mother bought me a little hand mirror that said SMILE on the back and was decorated with pink and green. I loved it.
3. I got busted by my father for sliding down our banister and after he finished yelling at me I went to my mother, crying. After I confessed what I'd done, my mother smiled, put her brush down, and took me by the hand into the study, where she pulled out an old photo album. To show me a picture of her own mother, sliding down a banister in the late 40's or early 50's.
4. In second grade when I was sick and out of school for several days, I got sad and started crying one afternoon. When my mother asked why, I said it was because nobody from school had called to ask after me. She nodded and then excused herself. A couple of minutes later the phone rang, and my mother yelled for me to answer it. When I said hello, the person on the other end was my mom, calling me from our other line to ask why I'd been out of school, expressing how sad she was that I wasn't there, etc.
5. My mother will claim that all the animals she draws look exactly the same (except the pig, which gets a squiggly tail), but I claim that she used to draw beautifully. For every single holiday, even the ones nobody celebrates like Groundhog's Day, my mom would draw some cute little design on paper with different colored markers and leave it on my place-mat for me to find in the morning before school. I loved those.
6. My mother was willing to spend hours after school sitting on the couch, watching me do handstand after handstand, critiquing me so I could reach my goal of being perfect.
7. Just like they do in regular public school, my hebrew school also took yearly pictures. One year I'd really liked how my picture came out, but I couldn't find any of the pictures and got all upset about it. I worked up a whole speech in my head about why I should be allowed to have one of my pictures, and launched into it in front of my mother, trying but failing to hold back tears. After a few minutes she interrupted me, took me by the hand, led me into the den where she sat me down on the couch, and she sat down on the piano bench. With a little smile, my mother said, "Now, what did you want to talk to me about?" There on the piano was that hebrew school picture, in a white frame that had a pink and green design.
8. In seventh grade my mother taught me five years worth of math in one week. Because she really is that good of a teacher.
9. When I was 18 and very sick for months and months, my mother got a Carvel crunchy cake for me that said, "Feel fine fast."
Labels: Little Green, New York State of Mind, Personally
posted by Green at 1/25/2009 12:28:00 PM
8 Comments:
That almost made me cry.
What an endearing post. Your mother sounds lovely.
I'm in tears now. I hope my kids will remember good things like these about me (there are some, really), and not just remember all the times I've yelled at them...
Aw, Green. What wonderful memories... Call your mother! :-) So much love in little gestures.
That was beautiful. :)
As a parent myself, I make sure my Mom knows about all the "little" things that I remember. She is a mighty woman and her love for all of us (I am one of 13 children) is something I try to mimic with my children on a daily basis.
What a lovely post. I hope you sent this to your Mom.
Mother daughter relationships are rarely easy. Reading this was very sweet.
I hope that she SERIOUSLY appreciates that post.
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