She is from a tough as nails mother
And a father who adored her
From rations and black out curtains and long summers spent away from the city for fear of Polio
She’s from waste not want not
And clear your plate
And shake hands and look me in the eye
From you can do better more than you are a superstar
She’s from a brother on either side who each loved her fiercely in their own way
She is from sun worship not sunscreen
And dinners at the dining room table, though sometimes still in your bathing suit if it’s at the beach cottage and the inside temperature is too oppressive for anything else
She’s from birthdays with angel food cake and chocolate icecream
and day after birthday breakfasts with leftover cake
She is from fierce and independent and elegant and irreverent
She is from genes that I do not share, but she is mine.
Reading, Writing and Learning 
This is so lovely! Your ending is so powerful, and I love, love the details you chose to paint such a vivid picture of her personality. I was going to say a favorite detail, but as I reread, I can’t choose–I love so many of them. Thank you for a beautiful read!
LikeLike
Clean your plate, shake hands, look others in the eye, do better–these were the messages from my parents, too. There’s was a great generation. I miss them.
LikeLike
Each of your posts paints a picture of your mom. We get a glimpse of her through your eyes. I love your ending. It’s all that matters.
LikeLike
This is SO GOOD! I get a sense of who your mom is as a person. The ending is perfect and I adore how you reflect on who she is and acknowledge the kind of mother/woman/person she is.
LikeLiked by 1 person