Mostly True Memoirs
HAPPY MOTHER’S DAY
It’s Mother’s Day.
I miss the smell of her perfume (Bluegrass by Elizabeth Arden).
I miss her books.
She always had piles and piles of books, and I loved to rummage through them to find a new treasure.
I never left her house without an armful of new reads.
Now I have my own piles and piles of books.
But they’re mine, so I already know what’s there.
There’s no rummaging going on anymore.
She was always an early riser, and I miss waking up to the sound of her clattering around the kitchen.
It was so comforting to get out of bed to find the day already prepared.
Now I’m the first one up.
And I’m the one who has to do the preparing.
Back in the day, on Mother’s Day, we would make a nice brunch.
We would sit in the windows of our Bosch-like house, drinking coffee, reading, and watching the day and the sailboats go by.
Happy Mother’s Day, Mom!