To my Mother, who always catches me when I fall

Forever I will remember the bounty of Halls cough drops, honey & lemon kind, Wrigley's spearmint gum, endless puffs of Kleenex and some kind of organic, all-natural, no-sugar snack you would produce from the depths of your purse. I watched the things you would do, years of togetherness, genetic imprinting, social conditioning?

I find myself idly scratching my head when I'm thinking hard, or nervous, the way you would do. I worry a hangnail and fret over my lists. Our voices sound so much the same over the phone, no one can tell you from me, or me from you. And, to my great irritation, I find that now I clear my throat in much the way you do.

But I also devour books like you do, revel in my long baths, still love farmer's cheese, black olives and alfalfa sprouts in my omelettes, and have a fondness for four-legged critters, just like you. I talk with my hands, and USE TOO MANY CAPITALS AND EXCLAMATION POINTS!!! I make people laugh, and wait, like you, for the punchline of my jokes to strike up laughter.

I learned to plie in ballet, to plunk out Beethoven on the piano, to ski downhill, and how to ride horses all because of you. You encouraged me and picked me up when I fell - as a toddler learning to walk on two feet instead of four, teetering on my bike, or coming off a horse from time to time. Endless parades of piano recitals, band concerts, play practices, choir rehearsals, horse shows, Taekwondo tournaments, opening nights, graduation ceremonies and commencement speeches - you were there through all of them.

First loves, puppy crushes, break-ups with boyfriends - good, bad, or indifferent, moving me across states or across town, watching me walk up the aisle on a ski hill tucked into the side of a mountain, you were always there, my mother.

I love you Mom!