I choose this name for my Mother's Day post because with my mother I have indeed struck it rich, receiving a wealth of love and happiness I honestly don't think I deserve, and which I'm sure I stumbled upon out of sheer stupid, blind, dumb, birthing luck.
I knew this when I was eight:
And I know it now. I always will.
And to honor the gratitude I feel for my mother, I would like to present a Mothering history, starting at the beginning, when she was curly-haired and chubby (and apparently easily hypnotized) in Stelton, New Jersey:
As a young woman, the world of music pulled like a magnet, inspiring her to study her craft and to learn – in several punishing courses – how to play the maracas:
In early married life, she chose to lay down the maracas – I tried to continue the tradition, but was never able to master their complexity – to pick up the instruments of the housewife:
Every Christmas she received her pay via a richly endowed Money Tree:
The proceeds of which went towards numerous expensive trips to Las Vegas. Mother actually knew several key people at Ceasar's Palace personally:
And now, having raised a rather marvelous family, she remains as beautiful, as mad, as clever, as funny as ever:
I love you, mom. Happy Mother's Day.