All My Moms

20140729125019_00002When I visited Mom yesterday, I encountered all my moms—first Joyce who is always accompanied by a small stuffed animal named Gus. “Hi Gus,” I said. To which she beamed, “You remembered his name! He is so pleased. You know, I wouldn’t be alive if it weren’t for Gus,” she confided. I scratched his head and told her about my dog Betty. “You know, I feel the same way,” I replied. We exchanged tips on dog care and to her delight, I gave Gus a parting nuzzle.

Then off to see Flora with my usual greeting, “Ciao, Bellissima!” I gave her and Phyllis each a hug and kiss. Then Kathleen—usually so serious but beginning to thaw . As I gave her a hug, she—for the first time—called me dear and hugged me back. Then Muriel. “My but you look lovely,” I said. She’s not quite sure who I am and why I would say such a thing but smiles.

Through all of this, Mom accompanies me—not quite sure who I am but aware that—whoever I am—she knows me and likes me. But then Mom likes everyone. It’s part of her charm.

“We are all so beautiful,” she says.

I like these people. I like being with them. They make me happy. Who could ask for anything more?

the ladies of AL

the model 2013.6.11 model


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