And today I remember.

My Mom was so cool.

Christmas ’89 or ’90?

Of the many things I loved about her, ranked rather highly was her creativity.

her brushes

Before pinterest and the DIY-craze, there was my Mom, researching, finding ideas, creating actual  folders filled with DIY ideas — ripped from magazines. From making a flower trellis to creating organic coat stands out of logs that she found, to making soap, she re-used and up-cycled before it was cool.

2005

And with relatively modest means, she could make a house a home.

Years ago – I believe I was in junior high or high school – she made a “Happy Room”. (Her words, not mine.) She ripped up the carpet and painted the floor. She found an old chalkboard — before everyone was finding old chalkboards — and she placed it on the wall. She filled the room with all of the things that made her, well… happy: random frames that she loved, color, rugs, pillows, painted furniture, books… And it wasn’t a mess, but instead it was a well-used, well-orchestrated, welcoming, light and airy space.

It was so her.

1994? 1995? The early days of the happy room, before it got even happier.

We played many-a-game of scrabble in that room.
I did my homework in that room.
I came home from college and we sat in that room.
We had meals in that room.
We sat together on the little love seat, toe-to-toe, covered in a blanket, reading our respective books.

Still today I remember the way sun would beam through the windows on a cold snowy day… I remember the warmth of that place.

It’s those memories that I wrap myself in on days like this.

She was funny. And cute. And intelligent. And kind.

1999

Happy Birthday, Mom.

You made this world, your space, your circle, your daughters better because you were here.
I loved you for uniqueness, your wackiness, your creativity, your ferocity, your resilience and your strength…  and most importantly:

your ability to see beauty and potential in everything and everyone.

I am so glad you were born, Mom.

I love you (and that handsome fella below) to the moon and back. Tell him to give you a hug for me.

my mom and dad – late 70’s.

love,
me

Birthday Posts to my Mom
What I wrote in 2014 – my first year without her.
What I wrote in 2013 – the last one she ever read.

—The Story of Loss. On Losing my Mom.

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