Happy Birthday Mom

December 7th, a day that will live in infamy…

Around our house, it was just Mom’s birthday.

My Mom was a wonderful woman who I miss dearly. She had a quick sense of humor, was a voracious reader, and was very active in the community. While she never attended college, she had that rare combination of book smart and people smart.

I recall many examples, but my earliest one is the most interesting to me.

Mom worked as the librarian at the grammar school in our parish, back in the days when many moms still stayed home. Since organized day care wasn’t really a thing quite yet, she would bring me along with her. So, before I ever attended classes I was already “going to school.”

When I became old enough for kindergarten, I remember her taking me to school but going downstairs, not upstairs where the library was. As we walked down the new corridor, I could see other young children clutching at their moms and crying. Very distressing to a four year old.

While other moms were pushing their kids into the classroom, my mom walked right into the kindergarten and escorted me to my seat. Then she told me that I needed to stay in here, but that she’d be waiting right outside the door to make sure I was ok.

Then she walked out.

I sat there, a bit afraid (ok, a lot afraid) and every so often I looked through the doorway and there she was, standing in the hall. After a few minutes class got started, and things started to get interesting. I looked at the hall less and less, and she was still there. At one point, I got really interested in what we were doing and didn’t look for a long while. When I looked finally, she was gone.

She was gone.

Two things immediately went through my mind.

One, I was having enough fun that it was ok that she left.

Two, I realized that she just waited until I was settled before leaving, so I wouldn’t cry.

I remember thinking, “That was really smart, I should remember that.”

And I always have. Happy birthday, Mom