Happy Mother's Day, Sweetie!!

FEBRUARY 1967

Wasn't she fierce? Talk about style!! When I was a kid, I had to endure men practically prostrating themselves at my mother's feet. I'm totally serious. When we'd walk down the street, heads would turn, compliments were spoken, mouths would be agape. It was constant. She could, and did, turn some heads. I remember often standing next to her and rolling my eyes as yet another man would stop us to tell her how beautiful she was. I laugh about it now, but I wasn't laughing then. I remember once telling some man to let go of my mother's hand or I was going to tell my father. I think my mom was happily shocked to hear me say that (if only because I was terribly shy as a child, probably damn near mute).

My mom is 80 now, and proud of it. She always says she never expected to live this long. She's made it clear that she's shooting for 100. That's just fine by me. Our relationship is so unlike that of most mothers and daughters. We actually like spending time together even though my tendencies—to eschew careers, to get inked, to wear non-traditional hairstyles—drive her to distraction. She's the best mom I could ever have. I knew she completely understood her one and only child when she said, ever so long ago, "Mary doesn't just march to the beat of a different drummer. She marches to the beat of a drummer that no one else hears." That is probably the best description I've ever heard about myself.

Happy Mother's Day, Mom!! Thank you for being such a wonderful role model in both life and in motherhood.