Like Old Friends

From time to time, a domestically challenged woman may look in awe at a cake I’ve baked or a craft I’ve crafted and ask what is my secret or where did I learn to make this. I earnestly shrug and say, “I don’t know. I just do!” But that’s not really the whole truth, and I know it. It isn’t right not to acknowledge that much of what others love about me and what I admire in myself comes from my mom.

On Mother’s Day, you won’t find us at some ‘Honor Thy Mother’ brunch, it’s just not our style. You’re most likely to find us walking, talking, laughing and toasting to the fact that we still speak to each other… willingly. What can I say? At times it’s just been complicated but we choose to stick together. Like old friends. To be a daughter is to not just be the child I was. To be a mother is to not just have that child. To be a mother and to be a daughter is to experience each season together and our current season is to be adults, together. I should thank her. Thank her for not robbing me of that adult relationship because of a need to be that mother of that child again. At this point in our lives, we don’t talk because we have to but because we want to.

Admittedly, I know deep down when I fix the impossible, craft up the wonderful or create the amazing that I got it from my mom. And I don’t admit that because I have to but because I want to.


May 1990.

A Project for Mom

1     2

Mother’s Day in 1995, my mom received this pot filled with cacti from a friend. For whatever reason it has been abandoned for some time. Twenty years later, I am filling it with life again.

3     7 I think it’s time for new gloves.

4     5  11     101213     14

Happy Mother’s Day.


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