When I was little, I opened the door of my mothers Mustang ’66 Anniversary Gold Fastback and fell out. She eventually slammed on the brakes, threw the car into reverse, and came back to get me. She wore a white shearling coat in those days, and black eyeliner, turned up at the edges like a cat. Plus, she had amazing emerald green eyes. Another time, she left me at a gas station, and was very put out when she had to return to retrieve me.
She had several car accidents and eventually the Mustang was painted red. She drove this car until I was in third grade. She would drive it with our black lab in the back while running errands in the small town where I grew up in the Willamette Valley.
Recently, it has come to my attention, that my mother was very “unique”. And it’s true, she was, but unique is not what you want in a mother.
I’ve tried very hard to fit in, and be the sort of mother who was not unique, but instead behind the scenes, reliable and dependable. Only recently am I allowing my children to see me for who I truly am.
As I move forward on my journey, I can see my mother more clearly, and I now understand she was enjoying her life. Unique may not have been what I wanted, but what more could a child ask for in a role model?
Love and blessings.
Sydney 