My Mom

Today, August 16, is my mom’s birthday, which makes it a perfect day to think about how completely amazing she is. And therefore to invite her into the Hall of Marys where her mother has gone before her and probably will welcome her with some pickled shrimp and a spicy Bloody Mary. The official drink of the Hall of Marys.

Me, my daughter, and my mom. The 3 Ms.

I’m starting to get off on a tangent. Here’s the point: My mom is awesome and has taught me a lot about family, honesty, patience, and faithfulness. She is the kind of person who raves about everything I do as if I am the most creative person she has ever met, even though she taught me almost everything I learned outside of a classroom. It is because of her that my sisters and I are carrying on the family tradition of ridiculous frugality, including ¬†saving even the tiniest leftovers for…soup. (Out of love for my mother, my husband needs to accept this and move on. We will not change.)

The youngest of three and mother of four, Mom has made fairness an art form and her life’s work. All of her children have agreed that she did not play favorites–she made us each feel equally loved (or put-upon, depending on what we had been up to.) No one ever divided a cake as evenly as my Mom. She had to, it was a matter of world peace and personal sanity.

She’s a Mary who grew up in a small town, but lived in at least 7 different cities with my father, and yet maintained her North Carolina accent. Which makes her either loyal or stubborn or both. They are family traits as far as I can tell. ¬†Also, she doesn’t put up with bullshit, because who has time for that?

I love you, Mom!