Friday, March 21, 2008


I've been working on this post for a year now. Yet every time I sit to write it, or edit it, I cannot finish it. This is my fourth attempt ~ the first was last year, the second was last Mother's Day, the third was on Mom's birthday in January. So this is my fourth, on the anniversary of her death.

Another year gone by. It has been four years since my Mom died of sudden cardiac death. A few years before, I had given my parents our old computer after we'd gotten a new one. Dad had been using his old electric typewriter for years and I thought it'd be neat for him to be able to save things to disc on the computer and print out at his leisure. Mom asked him if she could keep her memories in it for whenever she remembered things so we could all share it someday. She dictated her memories as Dad typed, and I am so grateful to them both for these recollections. Maybe one day I'll share some of her memories here. For now, I will share some of mine.

Mom was beautiful~ a natural beauty. Her idea of makeup was a little powder from her compact and some lipstick. On special occasions, she would apply mascara, but she told me she wasn't crazy about it because it made her upper & lower lashes stick together. I, on the other hand, rarely leave the house without applying everything from foundation to eyeshadow, mascara... the works. When I was little, I would watch Mom apply her lipstick~ she had this lipbrush and I would gaze in awe as she dipped the brush into an often-used stick of lipstick, and then across her perfectly shaped lips. For as long as I could remember, she used that one lip brush and as an adult I searched for one similar. Even now, whenever I use my lip brush, I always think back to watching my Mom with hers.

She often told me of growing up in Japan. Her father, a civil attorney, had a house built incorporating both Japanese and Western features. Part of the house had traditional Japanese furnishings: tatami floors and futons. The other part, which housed his home office, had hardwood floors, desks and sofas. As a young girl, she and her siblings would sneak into his office and jump on the sofas until her Dad would catch her. That never stopped her for long. The image of my Mother as a young child, bouncing along the couch to see how high she could jump always makes me smile.

Her wartime memories are poignant, and those are absolutely something to share another day.