So this is my mother, steezin’ through the eighties.
(I especially love the first picture; it was taken at her engagement party)

For most of my childhood I took swimming lessons on Fridays and Saturdays. My parents knew how much I hated competitive swimming and would always be ready with a chicken rice treat at River Valley or a night at the amusement arcade at Parkway Parade after those dreadful lessons. I must have been about 7 or 8, and it was after one of those lessons when my mother came with a towel to get me out of the water. I looked up at her and she had on this peach eyeshadow that really made her eyes light up and the shortest layer of her hair was bouncing atop her shoulders. She didn’t have any other makeup on and her cheekbones danced as she spoke. She held out the towel for me and said that the coach had said that backstroke was turning out to be my pet stroke, and could I come out for a bath quickly because we were going for chicken rice after.

She looked so beautiful. It literally took my breath away and my usual chatter ebbed rapidly into an awed silence. I stood there, dripping wet in my Speedo Y-back and just looked at her. Even as she hurried me into the bathroom and gathered my clothes along the way, I couldn’t stop looking at her. This beautiful woman; my mother.

She turns 50 today.
And she’s still so, so beautiful.

Happy birthday Mommy.
I love you.

 

 

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