A Birthday Entry

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Those of us who have children know that the lifelong journey of parenting is full of trials and successes, tribulations and joy. Each of us has our own criteria of what qualities make us a good parent. It’s a difficult, full time job that comes with no directions and no training manual. Our memories of our own upbringing by our parents are generally the basic guidelines for how we go about guiding our children.

I recently received an e-mail from my daughter which revealed that I had achieved a major success in raising a child who grew up into an adult able to see past the parent to the individual who existed before the title of "Mom" was bestowed upon her. Today is my birthday. I am 52 years old today and while I don’t believe this essay written by my daughter was intended as a gift, I regard it as such and wish to share it with you:

Mom, I took a few minor liberties with the story, but this is something I wrote, and I thought that you might be at least amused by it. I wrote it several times over, but this is the draft that really moved me. You know you have written something good, when it makes you the writer teary eyed:

" The Legacy of my Mother"

How will you be remembered when you are older? Do you have a legacy that you will pass on? A talent, a claim to fame? Is there a picture of you that captures you for what you are, that you hope will retain your youth? If so, what would you be doing in it?

In my parents room, I noticed a picture recently that I had never seen before. It was a recent photo of my mother, taken by my father at the springs resort that they enjoy so much. My parents are occasional naturists, mostly on weekend endeavors and vacations. This framed photo was from one of these such excursions. My mother is sitting by a little pool or pond of sorts, with a bunch of reed type plants behind her. She is sitting sideways, with her knees drawn up to her chest, and her arms about her knees. She has her face turned towards the viewer. It is clear that she is sans clothing, but nothing is revealed. It is a very beautiful picture of a vivacious, fun spirited, fit 50 year old lady of grace. She has a coy smile on her face, and a slight twinkle in her eye, I know my father had just said something to make her laugh, she looks very nymph like. She is in a pose you would expect to find someone painting her in. It is a gorgeous picture. I commented on it to her.

My mother, who works in the elderly care field, often sees photos of young lovers, whom are now aged and wrinkled in their twighlight years. Pictures of once prom queens, now in arthritic pain. Pictures of young girls with pigtails, who are now called ma‘am. My mother takes the picture down and tells me, if she is ever in a nursing home, this is the picture she wants on her nightstand. This is the "self" she wishes to portray to the world. She wants people to look at her and wonder if that gorgeous woman is the one that they see before them, and she will smile knowing such a nymph like woman is still inside the elderly one. I can never see my mother in a nursing home. She, and my father will live with me if ever the time comes. But this picture will endure. This legacy will be the one my mother passes on. I have visions of my own daughter showing it to her children years after my mother, the subject, and my father the photographer have passed. At that point I myself will be an elderly lady, and I will hear my daughter say "this is your great Gramma M, isn’t she beautiful, she was a very adventurous spirit".