A good exercise for me: hurry up and get it said.
Which is why I love Elmore Leonard, and I love his style of writing. Every time I think I’m going to sit down to write I think of the best quote I ever heard him say:
“Write the book the way it should be written, then give it to somebody to put in the commas and shit.” So friends, that’s how I roll.
Today (as everyday for the last 14 years) I miss my mom.
She would have turned 90 yesterday.
I spent the day thinking of her, looking at photos, remembering her funny stories, and marveling at what a great cook she was, how her voiced sounded, all the laughs we had, and what a tremendous support she was.
“We’re poor, but our dinner table isn’t.”
“Dinner’s on! And if it’s not cooked, it’s hot.”
“What, your friend’s an Idiot so you have to be one too?”
“Ooooooh, don’t go into the garage, you father is saying the Rosary.” (A warning that he’s swearing and using the most vulgar profanity possible, so stay away)
Mom was almost 5 feet tall, and round like a ball. Dad called her “Butterball”. She had deep auburn hair and skin that would turn very dark from the sun. Mom was Italian, her parents were from Sicily. She had one sister and one brother, she was the eldest.
Mom was pretty, funny, fun to be with, and generally the life of every party. She was the most generous person I’d ever known. She played the piano, loved Tony Bennett, and she was a friend to everyone she met.
Mom actually loved everyone, never had a harsh word other than the occasional “stupid ass” comment after one of my 3 brothers or myself did something dumb. That was the sum of her cursing. And she usually choked on the “ass” word, it was too harsh for her dainty mouth.
Mom taught me everything, some things hard to forget, others are engrained in who I am and what makes me tick. My sons never did anything wrong, in her eyes they were perfect, a great way for a Nonie to think, right?
I am nothing like her.
So both yesterday, and today still, I miss her, I can feel her with me, I can see her smile, I hear her laughter, and I know I’ll love and miss her until the day I meet with her & dad again.
Thanks Mom, for being my mom.