My mother raised me with the proverbial single hand while her other hand was busy making money for us to live on and trying to keep me pointed in the right direction. She needed another hand.
She taught me to laugh at myself, plant vegetables, get my hands dirty, fight, use power tools, tell the truth, do the job right, drive a stick-shift, and not to be afraid. She wasn’t raising no damsel-in-distress.
For the last 11 years, she has come over to our house once a week to be with her granddaughters.
My mother is my good, real friend.
Happy Mothers Day!
(She and I have started a blog together. It’s called Optic Nervy ant it’s about all the outrageous and intriguing things we see in our day-to-day lives. It is picture-heavy and light on words and who knows if we’ll be able to keep it up, but I think we’ll have some fun with it for awhile at least, so please come visit.)