Happy Birthday to my Mom

 Yep, today is my Mommy’s birthday! We lost my Mom in October 2015, not quite a month after she turned 81. On her last birthday, she was so ill and I could barely get her to taste the tiny lemon tart we offered in her hospital room. For the first few years after her death, her birthday brought back such sad reminders. Now, five years on, I’m able to think about all the good memories on her birthday, even though I still miss her terribly. I still sometimes forget and have the urge to call her, just to hear her voice and talk about little things and big things.

My mom, like me, loved almost anything lemon so we usually did a lemon dessert instead of a birthday cake. Sometimes I made her favorite: lemon meringue pie. Sometimes I made lemon bars. We usually would go to her favorite little Italian restaurant in the Heights, Collinas. She loved their food, but she also loved that she could bring her own wine...the Heights is a dry pocket in an otherwise very wet city. Wherever we went, however we celebrated, she was happy as long as she had her family around her! Her youngest grandson, Sam, shares her birthday. She said he was the best birthday present she ever received. When he was very small, Sam always thought that September 22nd was his birthday first, and he was just sharing it with Ganny to be nice. And that was absolutely fine with her!

My mom is the person who taught me that family is Everything. Money, jobs, friendships, bad times, good times...they all come and go, but your family is what sustains you. You can bicker and disagree, but then you had best get over yourselves because you need each other. I was an adult before I encountered the reality that some people had siblings or parents they hadn’t spoken to in years, and I was shocked. It’s kind of like when that one pope resigned - I didn’t even know that was allowed! But the thing is, she taught us to be there for each other. Some people don’t have the luxury of a family that loves them no matter what, and I have learned not to take it for granted. It isn’t easy, because families are made up of people who can be very different, and some families just aren’t able to get over their differences and rise above it. So I know that we’re lucky to have had a mom that made sure we understood from a very early age what truly matters.

We didn’t have much money growing up, but I don’t ever remember feeling “less than” other kids. She always made sure holidays and birthdays were special, and she instilled family traditions that we keep, that our kids keep. She taught us that there was no excuse for being dirty or having bad manners. She taught us to make up with each other. She could simply raise one eyebrow and sigh, then say “I’m not mad, I’m just disappointed” and that was a knife in my heart. God help you if she ever really did get mad. I can count on one hand the times I saw her really angry, and thankfully none of those times were directed right at me. I would have just jumped off of something very tall. I remember her having a little “come to Jesus” meeting with one of my middle school teachers when she felt I was being unfairly singled out. She didn’t yell or ask for special treatment for me, she just explained in very clear terms how she saw the situation.  Somehow, that teacher saw the light and things changed for me in that class after that. She stuck up for each of us, and she taught us how to stand up for ourselves, and each other.

When my siblings and I became adults and moved out, she would call us really early in the morning on our birthdays, because she always wanted to be the first person to wish each of us a Happy Birthday. How I miss that! I do it to my daughter and my grandkids, although they aren’t always as gracious about it as I think we were.

I miss so much about my mom. She could deliver a dry one-liner to crack you up when least expected, and then feign an innocence that she really had no idea what was so funny. I miss her dignity. I miss discussing the plot lines and costumes of Downton Abbey with her. One of the sweetest things my sister ever did for me was to take me to see the Downton Abbey movie (a show my sister had no interest in whatsoever) last year because she knew that Mom would have gone with me. That’s the kind of stuff my mom taught us to do. I miss that when I felt anxious or overwhelmed or just downright scared, I could call my mom and she’d remind me that this too shall pass.  When I was raising a teenager and got to my wits’ end once a week (at least), my mom would tell me to just keep loving her. The best advice my mother ever gave me was that part of taking care of yourself is knowing when to ask for help.

This January when we suddenly lost my brother John, we got through those horrible first days and weeks by sticking close to each other, holding each other up. The way she taught us to. That’s how we’re getting through it still. This is the meadow in Yosemite where my mother’s ashes rest, where we’ll also spread John’s ashes next summer with deep love, gratitude that they were ours, and in celebration of their lives.

I like to think my mom is spending her birthday this year with John, doing a crossword puzzle and watching over us. And surely there’s lemon meringue pie in Heaven? If there wasn’t before she showed up, I’ll bet there is now.

❤️ Bonnie