In the meantime, how about these two pictures of my maternal line? The first is my grandmother Julia Moshinsky Grabowski, taken in Poland in 1914 when she was 16 years old.
Julia was always on the go. Sewing. Cooking. Making pierogis at the Polish Catholic Church. She lived with my aunt Esther and helped raise my cousins Paula and Pam. Her apple butter pancakes live in a Proustian dimension. In her 60's, she went back to Poland, rode on horse-drawn wagons and saw her remaining relatives. She brought me a beautifully embroidered peasant blouse that was one of my treasured wardrobe items in the late 60's, early 70's and even beyond. She remembered every single child's, grandchild's and great-grandchild's birthday with a card and some cash carefully tucked in. I wear the diamond stud earrings that she left me with love and pride.
And then there's my mom, Valerie Cecilia Grabowksi Lightstone. The middle daughter of three. A woman of beauty, style, humor and high aspirations for both of her children. I always was sure of her love, sometimes a little too much. She gave me the vision to look beyond even while wanting me close. But, so much of what I am today I owe to her. (Even in some of the choices I've made in direct opposition to hers!)
Both of these women were with me today as I went about my Sunday and celebrated Mother's Day.
From the Lobster Eggs Benedict I chose for lunch, to the hard work weeding and planting in the garden, to having a good and loving conversation and a couple cheap laughs with Eli, to the phone call with Zeb; and his cards, one that complemented my style (a paisley shirt he reclaimed) and the other laced with ironic humor and love, to the asparagus and mushroom risotto whipped up for dinner, to the nice dry vodka martini that's next on my agenda....they live in me as I did in them.
This one's for you, Mom.