I took my mom out to lunch today. We went to one of her favorite lunch places… Panera. Just the two of us. We sat at a nice cozy table for 2 and talked and talked as we ate our identical Asian Chicken Salads, both with multi-grain bread and dressing on the side. And water… tap.
It is a warm, windy day in New England, the kind of day I love. Tress-messing, pants-billowing, trees dancing kind of a day. It reminded me of the windy days I loved when I was a little kid. I lived in California for a few years… near lots of hills. (It reminds me of where I live now… lots and lots of hills.) I would ride my bike or roller skate down those hills, and the wind often made me feel like I was standing still. I loved it.
It’s my mom who taught me to roller skate. I still remember her strapping my shoes into those metal skates… the ones with the key. (I hear from her sisters that she was quite the roller skater in her day… and quite the catch in her hometown of Boston.) It’s my mom who taught me to ride a two-wheeler. My dad took off the training wheels, but it was my mom who ran along beside me, waiting to catch me if I fell.
And it’s my mom who took me out to a special lunch when we were September school shopping or looking for the perfect Easter dress. I remember one such lunch like it was yesterday. I was finally tall enough to sit at a high counter, on a swiveling stool, and she ordered identical tuna salad sandwiches and potato chips. I felt like the most grown-up girl in the entire world…
I am so very happy to be able to return this love. And these memories. It is a blessing and a gift.