My Mom and I had an “uneven” relationship, but I miss her terribly, especially on Mother’s Day. Last week I went to a Greek Food Festival. A friend and I go every year. When Mom was alive, I used to stop at the pastry table and buy her some baklava and other Greek goodies. Kind of makes me sad that she’s gone and I can’t do that for her anymore.
I was born two years before the author and I don’t have such “issues” with my folks. I wish they were both here. They were wise, noble, conservative people. They weren’t particularly demonstrative — no hugging/kissing — but you always knew they loved you. They weren’t perfect parents, but they did their best and that’s good enough for me.
Lamott makes her living cranking out psychodramababble.