MOTHER'S DAY 2009

This is my first Mother's Day without my mom, and it seems strange to me. My mom lived in Rochester, New York, and my home base has been Baltimore-Annapolis for almost forty years now. Still, I talked to her all the time on the phone, and visited her several times a year. I felt connected to her in ways that were not always verbal. She was such a lovely woman. I miss her greatly.

I thought I would honor my mom today by revealing her favorite passion: doing the dishes. Years ago, my dad surprised my mom one anniversary by having a dish washer installed while she was out for the day. She was furious! I think it was one time I remember when my mom actually stopped speaking to my dad for a day or so. Poor guy, he just didn't get it. He should have opted for the traditional flowers, candy, or a dinner at one of their favorite restaurants. like Glen Edith or the Oatka Inn.

My mom elevated washing dishes to the rank of sacred ritual. I mean, she loved the entire experience! She and my aunt - who lived with our family for many years - were best friends, and they took turns washing and drying. They also "dished" about local news and neighborhood gossip. And they laughed like schoolgirls. I have never seen two grown women who were funnier when they giggled than my mom and aunt. Their faces would crinkle, tears would flow, and yet somehow the silverware and glasses all got put away.

Holidays were the best. My mom usually wore red, and my aunt, green. After the meal, they'd be in the kitchen for what seemed like hours. They never left dishes until the next day.

I just realized I've been writing about the two most beautiful women in my life - my mom and my aunt. Both mothered me. I was lucky. Both lived to be 95. My aunt passed away in January of 2004, and my mom, January 10 of this year.

Did I mention I never use my dishwasher? I like the feel of Palmolive, and I'm never alone at my kitchen sink. I can hear the giggles almost before I turn on the water.

If it's true that heaven is one big feast, then I know who's washing all the plates.

With Love and Gratitude to Jean M. Brewer, and Alvina J. Morse, from Me, Shirley, the Goddess.