Mothers of Mine

I have many good mothers in my life.

Momcat and Baby Erica at the lake, circa 1988.

Momcat and Baby Erica at the lake, circa 1988.

Fashionista Babci!

Fashionista Babci!

Grandma and JQ are shocked.

Grandma and JQ are shocked.

Madre and Iggo walk along the beach, 2011.

Madre and Iggo walk along the beach, 2011.

Mormor and her Girls, 2011.

Mormor and her Girls, 2011.

I am lucky and proud to know these people, be of these people, and to be shaped by them continually. These are ladies of wit and warmth and strength and wisdom.

When we were smaller we would wake very early on Mothers’ Day, walk into the dewy yard to collect the first things that had sprung from the ground, usually fistfuls of grape hyacinths and grass probably, and serve them to our Momcat with breakfast in bed, coffee in the finest cups our mishmash china closet could offer, folded sheets, the bed by the window. I wish I could do the same thing for all of these most excellent mothers today.

Because I am far from you all, 118 miles, 143 miles, 124 miles, 267 miles, and 2,904 miles respectively, I can only offer you this very fine video of a cat on a bicycle with a sombrero that our dear Evan sent in.

With love.

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About bearicaquinn

Smallish, smushy in the sad parts, certainly destined for cat-lady-dom. Enjoys boats, bikes, black coffee, pug faces, sourdough bread, the morning when you have slept long enough, beards, mountainsides, art, rooftops, etc. Will continue to live in things that are interestingly shaped. So octopus.
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