A couple of days ago, I was cleaning out a closet and came across these pictures of my mother. Judging from the book I found them in, this was approximately 3 years pre-me or the year 3 B.J. (Before Janelle...hahahahahaa). I looked at the pictures and wondered "who is this woman?" - not in a way like I don't know my mother. I know the basics - her name, where she went to school, her friends, a few anecdoctal stories here and there, the fact that after each surgery she has she winds up hating a new vegetable (this time it's peas...hahahahaha). But this woman in this picture is a mystery to me. What did this woman like? What pissed her off?? What were her dreams?? Where did she see her life 5 years from that day? 10 years? What made her smile? Who made her smile? Who got the other two pictures from the photo strip??If you would have asked her these questions anytime after my arrival, the answers would have been easy. It was all related to me. And I don't say that in a self-centered kind of way. My mother gave up everything for me. I was her priority. Every move, every decision was made because of me. And while I love her immensely for her dedication to me (and making sure I didn't do hoodrat stuff with my friends...hahahahaha), I can't help but feel guilty that I took her away from whatever this woman in the picture had in store.
So with Mother's Day being on Sunday, I want to celebrate this woman. The woman who stepped into a photo booth on a whim. The woman with the cute hair cut and the cute winter outfit. The woman with the slight grin in her eye. The woman who appeared to not have a care in the world. While the woman in this picture wasn't a mother yet, I think there is some of her in me. And I have my mother to thank for that. 
1 comment:
I'd love to know what your mother was thinking in this picture. she looks just like you.
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