Always baked the cake
I wanted for my birthday.
"Banana suits you," she said.
Beatles cranked on the car radio,
when other mothers listened to Sinatra.
A different drum is better.
Long summers in the sun
Coppertone & graham crackers
and the Mommy who made 3 p.m. snacks
for all the strays in the neighborhood.
Swim against the tide if you can.
Worked before she married,
but not behind the counter at the local Five & Dime.
Flew the friendly skies
across the Pacific and then Down South.
Find your cloud, then claim it.
They called her "stewardess," and "Hey, Miss!"
way before "politically correct" was born.
Navigated the aisles of DC-4s; relics circling several times
to shoo the cattle off the grassy runways.
Nights in Tegucigalpa.
Focus on what's ahead; never glance behind.
Met Daddy in Venezuela;
Married in Trinidad.
Stumbled into suburban life;
raised 2 young women
and several cats.
Pour your heart into everything you do.
Went back to work to pay for college.
A new chapter opened.
Again on the road; to Buenos Aires & Berlin.
An afternoon nosh on the Thames, perhaps,
but High Tea instead of Hi-C.
Feed your soul, not your face.
Retired and moved to the city.
Always push back.
Don't let them fool you.
Editor's Note: My youngest just posted something about Mom for Writer's Workshop, too.