"Mom, you look pretty."

Sometimes my mind races with ideas and topics to write about. Most of the time this happens when I'm no where near a computer or I have zero time to sit down and type out what I'm thinking about. Just the other day I was analyzing what I write about, or why I write. I decided that in almost every case,  I simply write from the heart. I'm focused on something I feel strongly about or my heart aches over. It can cover many subjects, but I never write to hurt people or get under others skin, that's not what I'm here to do. I feel it is my job to either share things that others may be experiencing, or brighten someones day with a little ditty about nothing of importance. Like I've said before, I am excellent at sharing non essential information, the gift to gab about whatever.

Some people have heard this story I'm about to share because I've had to tell it. You see, if I catch my husband engaged in a conversation and I know the person he is speaking with needs to get moving, I'll interrupt politely and say, "Okay honey, you've gotta let them get going." I know he can talk anyone's ear off. I hear I can too though. Like I said, I was born with the gift to gab.


One time my mom came up to our place for a weekend visit. As we sat in the kitchen moving about making dinner she said rather abruptly, "You two never shut up." She said it with a chuckle. Both my husband and I stopped and looked at her shocked but we had to laugh because we know it's true, we don't ever, "shut up," as she put it so eloquently. My husband and I love to talk. We talk about funny things, serious things, things that have zero consequence.

So here's what's on my mind today, seeing as I haven't had a moment to sit, write or gab.

Upon losing my dad, my mother's value quadrupled. When both your parents are alive, you feel an evenness between them. Now however, having only one parent left, I find her value to be priceless. I remember as a child, my mother was the, "Art lady." This meant she took a class on the artist of the month, learned about their styles and medium and then shared big beautiful prints with classrooms around the area. On days when she was coming to my school, I looked forward to seeing her all day. When she would arrive I couldn't help but smile. My mom has one of those smiles that lights up her face and the entire room she enters, everyone can feel her presence. Everyone smiles as a reflection to her. I was always so impressed that my mom was in my class teaching. I've always thought my mom was smart, pretty, athletic, funny, fun and charming. Hopefully some of those traits wore off on me and my body soaked up all of them.

One thing that I'll never forget, was a story my mom told me about my great aunt Velda. She was my mother's aunt and my grandmother's fraternal twin. They weren't in any way identical. In fact, when my grandma and my great aunt were children, they were given the nicknames, Blackie & Whitie. My grandmother had jet black hair, and her twin had pure blond hair. Such came their nicknames. My grandma always said they were, "Womb-mates." Which I always thought was cute. She also loved to tell me how she had to call my great aunt Velda,... because she forgot her birthday again this year. 

My mother told me that my great aunt was beyond beautiful. My mother and her cousin were close to the same age and so my mother saw her aunt often. My mom told me, "When Aunt Velda entered the school, everybody would stop, turn and admire her. People just wanted to take a long look at her and absorb her beauty." She told me this again and again throughout the years. I saw pictures of my great aunt, she was beautiful but so was my grandmother. If I stop and think of my grandma, who has passed on, God bless her soul, I see nothing but stylish clothing accompanied by beautiful shoes and hats. My mother has always been pretty too. As a young adult I hoped that maybe one day, I would be pretty enough to make my kids proud of their mom when I walked into a room, but I don't think it works quite that way anymore. Although there are still beautiful women walking around for sure, I'm a denim girl. I love jeans. I have at least 40 pairs so you know what I'm wearing most days. My mother still wears dresses and skirts weekly, I can't remember the last time I wore a dress. Women were more into dresses back in the day I'm guessing. Remember June Clever? Fictional and yet accurate. Heals, pearls, dresses. Times were different. I have a beautiful pair of white gloves that belonged to my great, great, grandmother. I love to imagine the coat she wore them with.

Lately, when getting ready for a school outing with my son I have been thinking about my great aunt Velda. I want my son to be proud of me, proud of his mom. I want him to look at me and think, "That's my mom." So I've tried a little harder, I've put a little more effort into myself prior to meeting up with him at his school or his school's function. My little boy has complimented me on what I would consider some of my worst days. I'll check myself in the rear view mirror. Unintentionally I'll say out-loud, "Oh mom doesn't look very good." He'll lean forward, peer around at me, then he'll say, "I think you look pretty." Melt my heart, he does, he does. I always tell him how good he is for my soul.

That is one thing I've never neglected to remember, how much love children can hand out. My kids love to cuddle and hug. As they were growing all through the years, whenever they'd ask for a hug, I would pull them in, "Yes! Of course! Mama needs your love." I find it's true. Kids can fill any love gap that may exist in your heart.They only see the beauty. How lucky are we. Now however, I find I'm the one asking for the hugs, being that they are so grown up an all. My husband's catch phrase for a hug is, "Bring it in for the good stuff." I told him just the other day, "I love it when you say that."  That's when I sidle over for a squeeze.

Enjoy your day. I think this might be just the right length to enjoy while cuddled in on this blustery January morning with a cup of coffee, tea or yummy hot chocolate, with or without the marshmallows. Of course you know I'd say, "With."

XO
S.