Bumper Sticker
Happy Hallowe'en.
looking for what's missing... I'm a knitting, spinning, mother of teenagers with a big dog, a small cat, minus the lovely rabbit Meliflua.
Right now I'm listening to "Peace Is Every Step" by Thich Nhat Hanh, reading "How to Change Your Mind" by Michael Pollan, knitting mittens, and thinking about casting on a hat.
Besides that, you were Mensa fodder from day one -- brilliant, great grades, a whiz with foreign languages -- and to this day, you are forever surprising me with the wild variety of books you read. Anyone who reads The Double Helix and The Murder of Roger Ackroyd with equal gusto is a Renaissance woman.
I never could manage the Farrah Fawcett hair, but you could. (My '80's hair looks remarkably like my '90's hair and my '70's hair...) Aside from the hair, don't we look like twins? (HA)
You are the one puppies love. And grown dogs. And kittens, probably iguanas and certainly little kids. You may have refused the honorific "Aunt"; instead Vincent dubbed you My Joanie and Olivia carries on the tradition.
And here is The Photograph of Joanie. You know, The One. Arguably one of the greatest photos of any of us.
Happy Birthday, Joan(ie). What can I say? You're My Joan(ie) to me, too.
Love, Gail
I remember my school friends telling me, "Your Mom is pretty." When looking at this photo, who could deny it?
You baked the best cookies. (Olivia keeps you in top form yet.) You got six little kids ready for church on time every Sunday. You gave us freedom to make decisions and mistakes. You blew out eggs on the last day of school before Easter break and didn't groan (too loudly) when 1/2 of us said, "Oh yeah, I need one too." When we couldn't afford the extra cost of "boys' tennies" that were the height of fashion for 3rd grade girls, you painted my girls' tennies with butterflies and caterpillars. You didn't make just lemonade from your lemons, time and again you made champagne.
You always told us we could so anything, and proved it when you told the principal, "Give me one good reason why my daughter can't take shop..."
You may say you didn't really enjoy sewing, but I remember a parade of dresses with special details, like the little purse that matched the daisy dress I wore on the 5th grade field trip to be on the Noon Show, or the lovely graduation dress you made for Jean.
And I think of you this way, too:
and
Thanks, Mom and Happy Birthday.
Love,
Gail