My Mom Lives in Me

On January 23^rd, it will be two years since my mom died. Time is funny. It seems like yesterday and forever since I saw her and heard her voice. My thoughts keep returning to her this week and how she still fills so much space in my life. I think about how she’s influenced my life and all the questions I wished I had asked her. One phrase that keeps echoing in my head is, “I’m my mother’s daughter.”

My mom was the queen of good deals. I’m a great deal finder, too, and there’s such joy when I can get one, whether at the grocery store or some other experience where I’m spending money. I feel connected to Mom like we are sharing a high five for a job well done, sending a nod to my mom for teaching me to look for a bargain. I’m also good about returning things that I don’t need, or like once I’ve got them. The best return my mom ever made was a dead bird to Kmart, the precursor to Walmart. Mom had bought a bird for my oldest sister, but it died the same day. Mom wrapped it up and put it in the freezer, returning it the next day. I wasn’t with her, but my younger siblings said it was embarrassing when the return clerk announced on the store loudspeaker that there was a dead bird to pick up at customer service. The original Monty Python dead bird skit!

Mom’s innate curiosity and friendliness allowed her to talk to everyone and ask questions. Sometimes, she would stick her foot in her mouth, like when she asked a woman attending my sister’s wedding when she was due. The woman said she wasn’t pregnant. Things like that never deterred her from striking up a conversation. This is why my mom had so many friends. She was socially fearless. I also love talking with people, even though I might blunder with what I say. Sometimes, it’s just sharing pleasantries with people I meet while doing errands. Other times, it’s meeting people at events and discovering more about them. I considered myself shy growing up, though no one in my family did.

My mom was a lifelong learner. She went to college at night once we were in our teens and got her associate’s degree. After she retired, she was involved in many activities in their winter retirement community that kept her mind active and engaged. She was in a memoir writing group and book club, learned bocce ball, was part of the choir, and so many other activities. Mom also enjoyed swimming daily. I can see her example in the way that I live my life. I went back to school to take two college algebra classes, primarily to help my son with Algebra I. I found that I excelled and loved the beauty of math, as there is always a solution in math, unlike life, which is often messy. It also expanded what I was able to teach in my tutoring business. After my husband died, I explored my creative side. First, I increased the knowledge that he once taught me and expanded it as my photography skills grew. I’ve recently begun exploring mixed media art, drawing, and watercolors. Both creative pursuits give me great joy.

Growing up in the Depression, my mom understood what it was like to have limited resources available. It made her compassionate to others who went without. She was grateful to the Salvation Army, who helped her family. She would later volunteer with my dad to be a Christmas bellringer. Mom would volunteer in other ways as well. Both of my parents lived their faith of “doing unto others.” Their example has been a guiding light in how I behave. In the early days of our marriage, Mike and I volunteered at a church, making sandwiches for the poor. I’ve continued the legacy of giving to charitable organizations, especially those that mean a lot to me, and express Mike and my parents’ values. Grief has made me even more sensitive to people who are suffering because once you’ve lived through a profound loss, you see individuals, not numbers.

These are just some traits I inherited from my mother’s example. It’s made me more daring and willing to take chances I might not have taken otherwise. I also find that I love deeper and value the simple blessings of daily life. Though she continues to live in me, I will miss her physical presence forever.