When my daughter was born, I realized that I couldn’t have imagined a more perfect little girl. I had so many ideas built up in my mind about how she’d look, how her voice would sound, how she’d feel cuddled in my arms – but truth be told, the reality was so much better than the dream.
The same can be said about my mother. No, not that I outdid her dream of a daughter (although, of course she would have to say that’s true!). No… honestly, the truth is that she has surpassed all of mine. I couldn’t have imagined a more perfect mother than the one I have in her.
She continues to amaze me on a daily basis. I mean, how many women do you know who can roll a couple hundred chocolate truffles, come home, make dinner and then knit an entire sweater in one day? She’s a little machine… an unstoppable force.
But you’ve heard that part. It’s been penned before… Happy Mother’s Day, Mom.
This year, when I was thinking of what to write, I kept coming back to an unforgettable adventure we shared together back when I was still in college. Now more than ever, I’m so grateful for those memories.
I think it was the summer of 2001. My parents were living in England and my sister had decided to come back to the States for a summer program at Berklee College of Music, leaving Mom and I with too much free time and all of Europe at our doorstep! We poured over travel books, brochures and websites for weeks before finally deciding to throw caution to the wind, live like celebrities and spend a week basking in the sun on the Côte d’Azur. We packed our bags and headed to Nice – just the two of us. It was the first time we’d ever gone on vacation without Dad… which, as it turns out, was a very dangerous concept.
The trip was indescribable. In short, let’s just say we really did live it up. No long days touring historic sites until our feet ached. Oh no, by no means. Instead, we slept late, devoured the most delicious high-carb breakfasts, spent lazy days lounging on the shore, shopped all afternoon, and even found time for a couple tattoos! (They were Henna of course, but Dad couldn’t tell the difference… which traumatized him for weeks!)
We bought tiny crocheted bikinis in posh French boutiques and joked about going topless when we were met with many a saggy pair parading in the sun. We ventured a little too far from town and got lost, but no one ever complained. Rode the bus back pinned under the armpit of a very French woman who had probably never seen a razor or a bar of soap in her life. From the trolley we batted our eyelashes at a driver passing by and literally caused a fender-bender. He was still smiling though… you have to love the French!
It was unforgettable, so much fun and it introduced me to a side of my mother I would never have met at home. Spunky, spontaneous and amazingly carefree. Every mother and daughter should run away together at least once if you ask me. In fact, aren’t we due for another wild adventure my dear mama? Where to next?!?
I love you to the moon and back, and back again! Happy Mother’s Day, you gorgeous gal!