A Day Like No Other

The lady is my mom. One of three pictures from those photobooths, somewhere in the ’60s. Have so few pictures of Mom. Due to most of the pictures I do have, Mom snapped. I’m told I favor her. My dad would say I looked just liked her. An uncle said I laughed like her. Don’t remember her laugh. I wish I did. Today is a bittersweet. For this moment, I put on my tennis shoes so I can get a quick walk in before Dancing With the Stars Results show. While I walk, I’ll think about Mom. How we would have gotten into DWTS. She loved to watch me dance eventho she relayed the heartbreaking ‘fact’ (what my dance teacher said) “Black Girls can’t be ballerinas.” All I ever really wanted to do was dance on my toes.

Often wonder what kind of friends Mom and I would be today. Sure, she’d be 80 this year, but I know my mom wouldn’t be like her grandma’s 80. Get my wit, determination and, I suppose my assertiveness from her. I miss my mom. Our life together was cut short so many years ago. September 24, in 1971 was a Friday. I raced home to tell my parents about my day that included a pep rally. I just wanted to see them because Mom hadn’t felt well for a few weeks. Since she’d elected weight loss surgery, three months prior, in June. Mom laid in bed, with my dad by her side. I saw Mom alive for the last time that night as paramedics wheeled her from our home. Mom pet our Siamese cat goodbye and told him to be good. Mom kissed me and told me when she wasn’t there I was woman of the house. Then I heard “Mama love " for the last time.

We buried her on September 29.

I’m thrilled about today. Eager for tomorrow. Sad because I miss yesterday.

I am blessed.