A Mother Among Mothers

When I was in college, I made a friend. Although not at all unusual, I had made many friends throughout the years--this friend became more like a sister. Here's why. Her family let me in. Quite literally. How (and why) were they able to do that? It's simple. Their mother allowed it--even encouraged it. Here's the real head-shaker. They already had nine kids in the family!

It started with the usual, "Can Terry stay for dinner?" "Of course," was the immediate response. No hesitation. She had met me four minutes prior. She assumed, quite rightly, her daughter had good judgement. Over the next weeks, then months, the dinners turned into twice weekly affairs, often capped by an early Sunday breakfast at the Farmers Market (always their treat). It then turned to Thanksgiving dinners and trips to their mountain house. I never felt like a guest, always like family. It was the little things that made it so. She never seemed surprised to see me. Always acted like she expected me to be therw--even when I knew she didn't know I was coming. Always had a job for me to do, a role to play, a way to be like everyone else.

This mother was the classiest person I have ever met. She kept her counsel more often than not; but whenever you asked her a question or for advice; she gave it to you without any sugar on top, but without any judgement underneath. Above all, her ability to see beauty in the simplest aspects of nature, and the smallest gesture of humans, was truly unparalleled. She gave that gift to all of us. It lives on in her children, as part of their dna.

She knew right from wrong, courage from weakness, and how to have fun.

She recently passed away. I am grieving her loss; even while a part of me doesn't feel I have the right to. She wasn't my mother after all. But, then again, she sure made me feel like a daughter.