Mother's Day 2013

Some years ago there was a saying, I think coined as a tag line to a joke, that went “Oh, No!  I’m becoming my mother!”  All I can say is: I should be so lucky.  My mother was an exceptional woman.  She was smart, she was savvy and she was wise.  She was blessed with infinite patience.  She never stopped teaching herself new things, from needlepoint and furniture refinishing to caning chair seats to selling antiques to bookkeeping for our gas station, and, of course, the myriad things about farming.  She went from a probably upper-middle class upbringing and college at Cornell to a farm wife, doing everything from milking the cows to helping birth calves to driving the truck piled high with bales of hay with all of us kids piled on top of the load.  She showed her love in more ways than we knew, making clothes, leading our 4-H clubs, being there and giving words we needed.  She missed my father every day between his passing and hers.   She was ready for it when it was her time to go and she did that as she did everything else, with calm dignity.  To become even a small part of what my mother was would be an honor that I hope I someday reach.  Love you and miss you, Mommy.