Time

On July 6th it will be 11 years since my Mom passed. Yes I know mom is not capitalized, but although her name was Marcella to me her daughter her name was Mom. Do you know how many times I spelled that incorrectly? Lots, because in my child grown up mind mom was the proper respectful way to spell her name. After all I wrote Happy Mother's Day on many cards not Happy mother's Day or Get Well Mom, when she was sick, etc.

Anyway I still miss her. I don't cry anymore (ok sometimes) when I remember my sister feeding her scrambled eggs, or her yelling where her lemon meringue pie was that she had just asked for. Or how I didn't know she loved me until she was on her deathbed. I miss her and remember driving up to Mackinaw Island and being the youngest in a full car I sat up front between her and Dad and rested my head on her big cushy arms. Or how I faked sick and then showed off with sommersaults and she didn't get mad because she knew after spending all that time at school and being the youngest of eight that I just missed being with her. Most of my pleasant memories are from when I was younger, but when older she taught me how to shop. I am the only person I know who bought a brand spanking new top at Nordstroms for $2. and at the same time bought a lamp at a garage sale for $5. Lets just say we were retail shoppers not thriftstore, but I can haggle with the best of them even in retail stores. She always kept a poem about forgiveness on her bedroom mirror and beautful old perfume bottles. Her ring with birthstones for all her children were in the 2nd drawer under her nighties, cuz you can never be to careful. Her tamales rocked and my favorite was her chicken in tomato sauce and fidelo mmmmm yummmy. And as much as I have cut out carbs her flour tortillas still have me salivating just thinking of them. She had black hair that it took until her 60s to turn into that grey mixed with Mexican white. When she was young her figure was akin to Marilyn Monroes, but with a smaller waist. Yup she was a spitfire. And I will never forget my Dad telling the priest when we were preparing for her funeral that the priest that married them advised my Mom not to marry him because he didn't think he was good enough for her. Maybe that is why he worked so hard to be the provider, don't know, but that is another saga.

I love you Mom. I miss you Mom.

xoxoxcoxo