I’m 50!

OK, well really she is 55. Happy birthday, mom.

At her 50th birthday party, seated around my family in my Aunt Nancy’s backyard, I watched my mom karate-kick her right leg into the air and yell “I’m 50!” after blowing out the candles on her birthday cake. If this doesn’t perfectly exemplify my peppy and energetic mother, I don’t know what does.

Well, today is her birthday, and although she says that I am the best gift she was ever given (I was born just nine days after she turned 31), I thought a little tribute would be nice.

Here are five things that always remind me of my mother:

Inconceivable. The Princess Bride, one of our favorite movies and books, is the source of this memory. If you have not seen The Princess Bride, or better, read it, please do so now. My mom and I often like to quote, “I do not think it means what you think it means” and, if things get really heated, “You killed my father, prepare to die.”
Angel hair pasta. And you know it was prepared especially for me by Jeanette Meyer if there was cut up cheese stick in it. Growing up, any time I was sick with a stomach bug (which was more often than I like to remember. Both my brother and I were major pukers as kids), my mom would prepare for me angel hair pasta with cheese and a light smattering of butter. Even now, years later, it makes both my mouth water and stomach churn.
Dancing to Time After Time. Romy and Michele’s High School Reunion is a great movie, but arguably, the best part of it is the final dance scene. If you stop by our house after we have blended up a pitcher of margaritas, there is a good chance you will find the two of us frolicking around as my dad rolls on the floor.
Pride and Prejudice. While eating my pasta, you could guarantee that the BBC 5-hour production of Jane Austen’s Pride and Prejudice was on. Sick or not, this made-for-TV rendition of my favorite book always makes me feel better, and it always reminds me of my mom. Again, you will often find us gasping, “Mr. Darcy” while clutching our pearls, and telling the other, “Oh, how you vex my poor nerves!” Again, give the book a read and the movie a watch.
Postcards. My mom loves postcards. I am not sure how or why it started but I think it had something to do with an empty nest. What started as a fun way to pass a Sunday morning has turned into an obsession. Post cards are sent out weekly to friends and family, complete with stickers and magazine cut outs. I can no longer go on a trip without stopping to grab a few postcards at each museum I venture into. On our family cruise to Alaska last August, my mom bought a record number of postcards on the 10-day trip: around 300. If you want to send one our way and wish her a happy birthday, contact me for a mailing address!