Happy Fe Day.

I remember being 4 years old and being not-so-thrilled with having a 1 year old sister and a 7 year old brother. I felt they were time hogs. And I remember that Fe knew this. I remember her bringing hot chocolate for two down to my room (which had been moved to the basement because Colic Shelley was zero fun) and shutting the door. We laid on my bed and leaned against the wall and we just talked it. Even at 4, I knew I'd remember it forever, and looky looky, I did.

I remember being 7 and squished in the red Subaru on a Griswold style family vacation. Money was tight and Mom had pack oodles and oodles of sandwich meat and fixin's to avoid restaurants. She was a master of budgets. We were mid-car picnic when Shelley wanted more milk. Fe did the classic Mom "turn, talk, pour" move, missed Shelley's cup completely, and covered me head to toe in 2 gallons of 2%. I'm pretty sure a little pee came out. I'll mark it as the first time we giggled 'til we wee'd. The first of many.

I remember being 10 and getting dressed for my birthday party. Fe had bought me a denim jumper from Lamonts that I really wanted. It tied in the front like a corset and had a layered ruffle mini-skirt. I loved it. Fe came in to check on me, bent to my level, and started crying. She kept saying, "I can't believe you're 10. I can't believe it." I didn't understand why she was crying and she said maybe someday I'd understand why. I think I do.

I remember being 15 and needing to learn how to drive. My winter birthday meant I learned to drive in winter weather which is fan-tab-ulous is Seattle. Rain. Wind. More rain. And dark. Very dark. I remember opening the yellow pages on "drive nights", closing our eyes, and picking the first Starbucks we landed on. Brilliant lesson plan. "Looks like we're driving to the Tukwilla Starbucks." They were the best nights. The best drives. The best teacher for my life.

I remember being 18 and being ready for college. Very ready. And very vocal about being ready. The morning I left, Fe gave me a little piece of art. It said "There has never been a day that I haven't been proud of you, I said to my daughter. Though some days I'm a lot louder about other stuff so it's easy to miss that." I said thank you, and then cried every time I read it when I was a freshman because I missed her terribly but didn't want to admit it.

I feel the same way as the art said, Fe.
There has never been a day when I wasn't proud to have you as my Mom. Even if I was louder about other stuff. Like buying jeans. Or driving to Seattle alone. Or chair covers at my wedding.

Happy Mother's Day to all the fabulous Moms out there.


Tell me about it. Oh and thanks for validating my life.

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