Today would have been my mom’s 87th birthday, had she lived to see it.
I know I’ve written about her before and have posted a few photos of her, and in fact I originally began a blog that I called “My Mother’s Kitchen” because I wanted to share some of her recipes that I love and include my own stories about them along with my memories of growing up in a large family in rural Canada in the 1950s and 60s.
I don’t want to repeat myself too much today, but she was my mother, she meant the world to me, and it is her birthday, so I thought I would at least share or re-share a few photos of her for my last Foto Friday of October.
Mom was the third youngest child out of thirteen, and she was the tall, gangly-but-pretty girl with a mangled thumb from a garden-gate accident and deep scars around her mouth from being mauled by a cat in an under-the-kitchen-table incident when she was just a little child.
She was always self-conscious about her thumb and her scars, even though I found them to be interesting and thought she was beautiful just the way she was and loved to hear the stories of how she happened to have come by these constant reminders of her childhood.
Mom repeated the stories many times for her children when we were growing up, and grew accustomed to people mentioning her ‘funny thumb’ in conversation.
As she grew older, certainly well before she died, I think mom finally accepted herself and embraced her physical and emotional scars as badges of life-battles she had experienced during her seventy-six years on this earth.
So today I want to celebrate mom’s life, scars and all, by sharing a few photos of her. Happy Birthday, mom – I love you and miss you.
*Click on any photo to begin the slide show.
Looking at these photos as I prepared them for today’s post and thinking about my mom while I organized them into a rough chronological order, I realized that she lived a good life, even though she had more than her share of heartaches and disappointments and made lots of her own mistakes along her 76 year life path.
But in the end, when all was said and done, she loved and was loved, she laughed and danced and sang and acted silly and threw tantrums and cried and told stories and jokes and she had good friends and close family members and she was an integral part of great memories that those of us who loved her still talk about today, ten long years after her death.
That fact alone speaks volumes about her life. Thanks, mom, for my memories of you.
Thank you, too, for dropping by today, and remember – don’t be a stranger!