Wednesday, June 15, 2011


It's almost Father's Day, and I would like to take this opportunity to pay tribute to my mother. Late, I know, but I was not able to do this on Mother's Day. Please indulge me.

The photo is of her when she was about my age, maybe younger. This is one of the many ways I remember her. At this age, she was vibrant and full of life. A terrible cook, though. I used to dread meal times. Don't worry, she got better at it. By the time I was a teenager, I actually looked forward to her meals.

On our recent trip to Japan, I found myself buying and eating things just because they were things that reminded me of my mother. I found, also, that that was something some of her friends did also. My mom had a real sweet tooth. She loved Japanese sweets that were filled with or made with anko (sweet bean paste).

I credit my mom with many things in my life. Here are a few:

+ I'm a pretty decent piano player. My mom sacrificed to make sure I got my lessons. (We didn't have disposable cash when I was a kid.) She also didn't give me a choice about the matter, and I'm glad for that. I think of her every time I sit at a piano.

+ My tastes in food. I like salty things and sweet things. Oh, and spicy things. Basically, the kinds of foods she preferred, I prefer.

+ The confidence to do the things that I've done. Many things that I have done, I did because she said I could do it. I guess that's a mom's job, right?

The list could go on and on.

It's been a little over a year since she died, and I still think about her all the time. I think I still miss her as much as I did a year ago, but it doesn't hurt nearly so much. Ellie still remembers her vividly. It's amazing the things she recalls--like the park they used to walk to every day the summer that she lived with us.

I just wanted to say "thanks, mom, wherever you are," on this not-Mother's Day.

- Posted using BlogPress from my iPad

1 comment:

Jess Munk said...

Mom's flat cookies. I don't know why, but I loved and I miss Mom's flat cookies.

When I watch my kids eat s'mores, I think about how Mom couldn't eat roasted marshmallows without it getting all over her face.

I miss her, too.