April 2007

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It's been eleven years today since my mother died. There's that number, the one that was special to her for many years before it became special to me. It's hard to believe that many years have passed.

She's been on my mind a lot the last few days. I have been particularly remembering some generous things she did.

Mother's way of doing things is exactly why Ami Dar's "last pair of socks" resonates so deeply within me. Mother may never have given away her last pair of socks, but she definitely gave away things that mattered to her because someone else could use them or needed them more than she did.

One of my favorite stories about her generosity involves Mike, a former student of hers who had been running errands for her and helping with heavier chores after school and in summer ever since he had finished being her student. He and his family were moving, a fact which was breaking a lot of hearts including mine. They hadn't had much money to begin with, and this move was pretty much breaking the bank for them.

Mother still had a suitcase that had been Daddy's. Contrary to her usual packrat nature, she had given away many things that had been his, but for reasons that I'm not sure even she understood, she had kept the suitcase.

When Mike came by for one of his last visits before the family left town, Mother asked him if he had a suitcase, and when he answered that he didn't, she gave him Daddy's. It filled a real need for Mike, and served him for years to come.

There were, over the years, many other such gifts. None were particularly expensive, because she never had a lot of money. But all were given in love.

So today as I raise my coffee cup to her memory, I'll be thinking about her generous spirit, and being grateful for the years we shared.

I love you, Mama...always will.