Family Time

This weekend I went to visit my family. August is always a month of family celebrations and this time it was a month of milestones - M turned 12 (almost a teenager!), my dad and my mom turned 70 and my folks celebrated their 49th anniversary.

I find it hard to believe my parents are 70. I can remember being asked how old my parents were and answering 35 (10 years younger than I am now! Yikes!) They don't seem 70 to me. They're still active, still doing stuff, and usually stay up later than I do. Scary.

A while ago, I wrote a post for Father's Day where I tried to describe my earliest memories of my dad. I never did the same for Mother's Day so given it's the day after Mom's birthday, I'll try now.

And it's SO hard. My dad worked super hard when I was growing up - came home late, in the office on weekends, so when I actually spent time with him, it was usually pretty memorable. With my mom, it's totally different. I don't seem to have any discreet memories - my mom was (and is) simply ALWAYS there. I can see her at the stove in our NY apartment (I'm sure making another pot of pasta) when I was about 4 or 5, I can see her at the stove at our CT house while I did my homework at the kitchen table. I remember her dropping me off for school in the parking lot of my grammar school, watching our old Ford Fairlane pull away and me trying not to cry. She froze her butt off sitting in the bleachers during my ice skating lessons (ok, I really wanted hockey skates but I still had fun). She sat threw numerous softball games and I can still hear her voice echoing in my high school gym, "Shoot! Shoot!" She had way more confidence in my basketball abilities than I did.

I love shopping with my Mom. I have her to thank for my love of shoes and jackets. She has this great gift for picking out clothes - she'll find something on the sale rack, "This would look cute on you!" I'd look at it horrified, NFW I'd ever put it on but she'd make me try it in the dressing room and damn, she was usually right. And if she wasn't, we'd get a good laugh at how ridiculous I looked.

She sent me numerous care packages when I was away at college, taught me how to make ravioli, apple pie, and how NOT to cook veggies (I like mine lightly steamed, she boils hers so they no longer resemble their original likeness.) She even took the blame (and wrath of my dad) for a fender bender where I was actually the driver. During my most recent move, she was surrounded by boxes in my kitchen, wiped out all the cabinets, unpacked the boxes and organized every drawer. Of course, 3 years later, I'm still finding stuff I forgot I had in some obscure back corner of a cabinet but that just makes life more interesting.

Now, if I could just get her to go bike riding with me.....