Tomorrow is Mother's Day. I spent this morning trying to tidy the house a bit, so that it isn't a mess when it's "my" day tomorrow. I have asked Geoff not to buy me anything, but the best gift in the world would be a vaccumed house anyway. :)
Today is a nice sunny day. Beautiful. A little cool, but that is how I like it. I drove around a bit today, running errands. I had the window down, listening to Mumford and Sons. It was lovely.
We are going to see my mom tomorrow and do dinner with them. We have been trying to get a hold of Geoff's mom, to find out if she wants to do dinner tonight, or lunch tomorrow or anything at all.
I like Mother's day, but it isn't a big deal. I normally ask to be able to sleep in a bit, to have a hot bath at some point, and either lunch or dinner. I like the house to be neat. Other than that, I am good. I think I am pretty low maintenance.
Since it is Mother's Day, I should blog about my mom. I have been wracking my mind, trying to remember my earliest memory of my mother. I really don't know. I can't pinpoint one.
I do remember her perfume. In particular when something big was happening, like my surgeries, she always wore her perfume. I remember waking up after one of my surgeries, and before I ever even opened my eyes, I could smell her perfume and I knew she was there.
I remember that my mother always worked. My dad would be laid off, or on strike or something, but my mom always worked. Non stop. When she was at the nursing home near us, we drop the car off for her to drive home at night, and we would walk home. Sometimes we would go in, and drop off the keys or to tell her that it was there. I hated the smell in there. But it was always weird and interesting to see my mom in her work clothes, doing her thing.
I remember going up north with my grandma, grandpa and aunt. My mom and dad came up about 3 or 4 days after, for just a day. I remember seeing my mom walking up the driveway. I felt a rush of love and happiness just seeing her. It is the quintessential childhood feeling. Mom. My mom. Just thrilled to see her. I am pretty sure we were supposed to stay a couple of days longer after their visit, but I am certain that I left with them. Homesick starts with missing Mommy.
My mother has taught me alot. From her I learned hard work, and dedication. I got my love of reading from her. I have my coping skills from her. She is unshakeable in a crisis. While I might be devestated in the beginning by something, after the initial wave passes, I buckle down and get to coping and moving on. And that is because of her.
When I was in Grade 6 (I think), the school statted talking about putting me in a special program for gifted kids. It really wasn't a question that I would go, it was just assumed. I sat down with my mom one day, before the planning meeting and told her that I didn't want to do it. I didn't want to go to a new school and lose my friends and be a big nerd. So, even though in her heart of hearts I am sure she didn't agree with me, my mom went into that meeting to fight the fight for me. And when she told them that I had decided that I wasn't doing it, she made me feel like she had my back. I appreciated it so much.
When I went away to college, my mother wrote me a letter every week that I was gone. They were "mom" letters, as she called them, just about the goings-on around the house, my dad and my brother. But it was the only mail I ever really got, so I really, REALLY appreciated it. For those of you out there a bit younger, this was before email was big, and letters were actually mailed. It was really old school. :)
My mom supports pretty much anything I do. She constantly comes up with new ideas for Cracked Lens. She is the one that watches the kids when we go on shoots, or to shows. She is involved with everything to do with Sebastian and his diets and his therapies. Every time I say " I had this idea..." or " I read an article about.....", I know, before I even ask, that she will be onboard.
She has had hard times. Her parents, my grandparents, are both gone. Her childhood wasn't great. She really doesn't have any good memories of it, or at least none that she really wants to share. Most of the stories of her childhood make me sad, so we rarely talk about it. She isn't close with her brother and sister, and that makes me sad too. But she has good friends, and she has us. And I think for her, that is more than enough.
My mom likes the colour purple, and she likes tulips. She drinks earl grey tea. She makes me turkey crepes for my birthday every year. She likes old movies, like Arsenic and Old Lace, and Jimmy Stewart movies. She listens to Meatloaf and CCR when she cleans the house. She is a super cautious driver and is convinced that the cops will pull her over if she is even 5 km over the limit. My kids call her Grammie. She watches horror movie and reads mystery and horror books constantly.
I am sure through the rest of the night, I will be remembering tons more about my mom. But for now, I am going to sign off, and wish her and everyone else a very Happy Mother's Day. Love you!
Rosie N. Grey
The N stands for "Number 1 Mom!"