It’s April and it is as hectic as ever. There’s at least one birthday to celebrate each day for the next two weeks and on most days, at least two. There are plenty of celebrations but today I miss mom a little more than on the other 364 days. I miss her stories that went on 247 tangents. I miss her stuffed cabbage and her borscht. I miss her laughter as she was in the middle of another anecdote fitting for the occasion. I miss her protectiveness of me. I miss her candor. I miss her book recommendations. I miss her telling me “no” and me actually listening. I miss her newspaper clippings that had information about just about everything from the latest exhibits at the Met, the newest play on Broadway, the best way to make some classic salad, new aphorisms to use at the next occasion or birthday card, and where to buy the latest trends on sale. I miss her unconditional and limitless love. I miss our shopping trips. I miss her hugs. I miss all of her.
My mom loved life and not only celebrated it, she embraced it! She held on to it with both hands even when one was swollen from lymphedema that made her disbalanced. She did it with a full heart as she dished out advice to her friends even when they were halfway around the world. She had an in incomparable zest for life and all of its pleasures and heartbreaks. At seventeen, she, a Jewish girl from Ukraine made it all the way to St. Petersburg Institute of Culture (via Chelyabinsk). She’s told me many stories of her youth and her travels, but I wasn’t old enough to really listen or care too much at the time. I was only 25 when she left and I’d give a lot to hear them now. Sometimes, I get lucky. Last year, I found an art book with a dedication to mom expressing what a great friend she’s been and was able to connect with the artist’s daughter. This past year, a friend from my mom’s youth travel group found me via Facebook because he saw “Lera’s eyes.” We spoke for over an hour and I took notes on the stories he told me of their wild trip across the Volga River, all her idea, of course. One of the most interesting things he told me was mom’s innate spirituality and ability to see the true meaning of things.
I LOVE hearing these stories. If you read this and you remember something, please share. They give me strength to hold me over for another year. She was brave, intuitive, funny, fun-loving, smart, adventurous well-read, fashionable, resilient, to name but a few. Her life should be celebrated because she was many things to many people and I hope that those that new her keep her memory in their hearts, but only to me, was she mommy.
HBD mamochka, wherever your soul may roam ❤️
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