Why is this day filled with so many emotions? It’s Easter so it’s the end of Lent. However, it’s also my mom’s birthday. Today my mom would have been 64 years old. She would probably be really unhappy with me telling people, but then I would remind her how she totally doesn’t look her age. She would smile her really warm smile, and I would be completely forgive.
To say that my mom means a lot to me would be a complete understatement. My mom was more than a mother, she was my best friend. She was the woman that I wanted to be. Every day I think about her. I think about her marriage to my father. My father who tells me that he’s still in love with her and believes that love conquers death. Seriously how am I suppose to find a guy who live up to my dad? I’m totally screwed.
Anyway, my mom loved Easter and birthday. She always took spent a lot of time thinking about them. Both days were treated as special occasions and often new outfits were required. A special meal was of course part of each day. Easter and birthdays were also a time to spend with family and close friends. My childhood memories of Easter often relate back to the outfit that was selected for me by my mom along with church in the morning and dinner in the evening. It was a good day. Here’s a picture of me wearing one of the outfits my mom picked out for me. Thankfully she had omitted the matching hat, purse and gloves this year. FYI I’m 19 in this picture.
I joke a lot about the ways my mom “tortured” me when I was little–shopping, wearing really girly clothes or obsessing over my hair. However I love her for all of those things. Because she wasn’t just concerned with my outside looking good she wanted me to possess inner beauty too. She taught me to be kind and friendly to people even if I didn’t know. She taught me to be generous with my time and money to help people. She taught me the importance of education and continuing to learn new things every day. She taught not to fear failure and to see it as a life lesson. So as I end my 40 days of giving up fear, I no longer ask “What Would Eleanor Do” but instead I ask “What Would My Mom”