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Rose remembers her mom…

Today my mom would have celebrated her 93rd birthday. Hard to believe so much time has passed. It’s good to be able to bring bits and pieces of her into my writing. Happy Birthday, mom. 

Excerpt from A Friend Request…Rose remembers her mom.

“This was the process of making an apartment a home, our home. I watched this process again and again as a young child and learned it well…from my mother.

Now I did what I saw my mother do in each apartment that we moved into. I painted woodwork, cleaned and arranged furniture, organized and added as many personal touches as I could. I didn’t wallpaper but I did something my mother never did. I bought used carpeting for the worn living room floor…cut it and laid it myself. My mom and I never had carpeting…but I did. And I loved it! It made my little apartment feel more like a home. The foster home I lived in had carpeting in every room except the kitchen and bathrooms. I thought this was decadent! Now I was decadent too.

I established a nice Saturday morning routine for myself. I got up, pulled on my bell-bottoms, slipped into a favorite t-shirt, slid into my sandals and walked down to the little neighborhood grocery store and bought two glazed twist donuts and a small carton of chocolate milk. It was a treat I looked forward to each Saturday.

I sat at the red Formica table that belonged to my mom and munched my donuts and sipped my chocolate milk. The Beatles “Rubber Soul” album played in the background. As I ran my hand over the smooth tabletop, I remembered all the Saturday mornings as a child that started out exactly this same way…only with my mom sitting across the table from me sipping a cup of coffee. She wouldn’t let me drink coffee but she would let me dunk my doughnut in her cup. I can still smell the coffee…taste the coffee soaked doughnut. It’s funny the things a child remembers.”

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