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A Mother Like No Other
Every child gets their own parents
Our mom was not like the other moms.
While other moms on the block unwound with afternoon soaps, our mom laced up a pair of skates and glided across a frozen Wilson Pond.
While other women ushered their children indoors at the first drops of rain, our mom climbed atop the picnic table and stood with arms wide open to the lightning sky as though she were Mother Nature herself.
Our mother was beautiful.
When I walked beside her as a child at the mall, men, women, and even babies in strollers turned to look at her as if sparkles scattered in her wake.
Once, my older brother said that our gorgeous mom could have been a movie star but had chosen instead to be our mother. I thought she made a poor choice.
Mom was creative. She knit sweaters, crocheted potholder vests, and sewed outfits for herself, her kids, and grandkids. Once she made a pink turban-like hat for herself decorated with a hanging cluster of purple plastic grapes. No one dared ask why.
She was a devout Catholic
When our family visited Disneyland, Mom insisted on pausing somewhere between the snaking lines and fairytale castle to thank God for the vacation, beginning and…
