MOTHER'S DAY...

 

 

 

Sunday. Mother's Day. Of course, this is when we think of and honor our mothers. Daughters and mothers. A complicated dance between our similarities and vast differences and the love that balances the tapestry of everything in-between.

 

My maternal grandmother named my mother Cecelia Anne Elizabeth. Apparently, a first name with two middle names is a commonality in our family. My full name is Carie Lyn Christina and interestingly enough, my next to oldest granddaughter, Emma May Karen, also carries this tradition.  Although, my mother's side being Irish (with French and Italian thrown in for good measure) and also being Roman Catholic is what I think the reason for my mother's name. I could wrong. 

 

My photographs of mom are still packed safely away since our summer move so that I can't share them. To give you a visual of what my mother looked like I would say think Audrey Hepburn in Breakfast At Tiffany's but, substitute green eyes and auburn colored hair.  My mother was 5 foot 11' and when I was small she was 95 lbs. I think the heaviest she ever became was 110 but that was an extreme rarity and only occurred later in her life. She had a great metabolism, never dieted. And she had the most amazing gams. .Her legs went on forever. Sadly, I didn't get that, however, my daughters and granddaughters did. Go, figure!

 

In school she had been voted Best Dressed. Most fun. She was an A student, head cheer leader. The bar had been set high for me to follow in her size-7 footsteps.

 

When my dad met her she was 21 years old and modeling in San Francisco.  She was an intellectual as was my dad, but neither were stuffy. Their marriage lasted until I was 2 when they separated. My mom had this great wit. Could lop off sarcasm with a smile that would make individuals wonder if they'd been complimented or insulted.

 

Her nick name for my dad was Rogue, it was fitting on several levels. One of the classic family stories that sum up what must have been an ongoing trait of my father's happened  on a weekend. My dad's bff (until my father's death) was uncle Paul. Paul was to dad what Lem Billing's was to JFK. I think they were together on every weekend their entire adult lives, weather it was both of them taking their plane and flying out of state, hunting, et al, they were joined at the hip. On this one particular weekend dad and Paul set out for donuts. When they returned the next morning with donuts in hand (a good touch). Dad rushed to explain they had flown down to Palm Springs (my parents lived in the Bay area). Without missing a beat my mother replied, Rogue, don't you think that's a bit far to go for donuts?

 

Mom was a phenomenal cook. Much on the same level as Julia Child. She made the best Veal Scaloppini I've ever had, even to this day. Simple dishes were equally special such as Tuna casserole. Desserts were amazing; 7-layered cakes, chocolate fudge at Christmas. Amanda has totally inherited this quality. I'm an excellent cook but will never be on the same level as my mom. I'm more like you want cake? Two layers max and you're lucky to get that these days. I just don't have the time to pour into it, literally.

 

Growing up was interesting. What was normal for me most definitely was not the norm for anyone I knew. I was like the first Kramer vs. Kramer in 1962. It was amazing and I feel very lucky to have followed this path, of course, I would have preferred that they not divorce but I had a great childhood. An only child with a huge extended network of aunts, uncles, cousins. My mother's side is mostly who I hung with growing up; aunts, uncles, cousins, Godparents. Although, I was super close to my dad's sister and her husband and cousins who were my paternal grandmother and grandfather's nieces and nephews, there were so many of us.

 

Rewind back to mom. Weekends and holidays, every other... were something I Iooked forward to throughout the school week. If I were staying at home which was a misnomer as those weekends I would be with my dad, sitting at the airport, while he and uncle Paul or uncle Ralph (another bff of long standing) would pull the airplane from the hanger and we would take off for parts unknown.

 

With my mom it would be weekends in San Francisco shopping at Gump's department store or the City of Paris or Macys. Clam chowder at Grotto #9 on the wharf. The sound of seagulls overhead and the smell of fresh crab being steamed, painted turtles for sale. Riding the cable car up to The Top of The Mark, China town, Ghirardelli Square, North Beach. Mom had a knack for making the ordinary become extraordinary. She was fun, generous, beautiful and up for any adventure.

 

Her friends 'lunched' while they're husband's 'clubbed'. Clubbing in those days meant golf and poker nights. Not today's connotation of clubbing. Mom was a great Bridge player but I think she preferred Canasta and Mahjong. She and I would have epic games of Monopoly, Scrabble and Yahtzee with my maternal grandparents.

 

Her preferred leisure activity du jour was reading as it was my dad's as well. They were equally voracious readers-- 2 to 3 a week. Both actively encouraged my reading.  Which would explain the books surrounding me as I write this in my living room.

 

Sundays meant my mother would be having her coffee while doing the New York Times Cross-word puzzles. In ink.

 

I wouldn't be the woman I am today without having her as my mother. For that, I am eternally thankful.  When I was a very little girl I couldn't think of ever having another mom. I can so clearly see her gracefully entering a room with the delicious scent of Chanel No. 5 accompanying her. She dressed beautifully. Anything she wore looked like a million dollars. She could make a dishrag look glamorous, There was always an innate sense of elegance in everything she did. She smoked Benson and Hedges and to this day I can see her seated elegantly holding this cigarette in her hand as the smoke curled upwards.

 

She loved music and was an amazing dancer. I can remember going out to dinner with her and Mateo (her Italian partner of several decades) where they took the dance floor and the other couples would stop, watch and then applaud them.  She loved music and introduced it to me at a very early age. I think I was still in the single digits when I fell in love with the blues and jazz.

 

Growing up in the 1960's was a magical time to be a child. It really was the best of times. Being raised in that era with my set of parents was having been exceedingly blessed. I really am very much like my mother and I'm okay with that.