Her mother was a hairstylist and hours were not accounted for in those days. Saturday could finish for dinner or as late as midnight depending on the influx of clients. Money was “notre gange pain” to survive in those says with only her mother who was reliable.
Her mother was a hairstylist and hours were not accounted for in those days. Saturday might have ended just in time for dinner or as late as midnight depending on the influx of clients. Money was “notre gang pain” to survive in those says with only her mother supporting the family.
There were times when her mother was not ready Sunday mornings for mass and she would ask her daughters to walk to church ahead of her so they would not be late for services. She promised she would get there in time before the consecration when the bells would chime, “Lord have mercy,” “Christ have mercy”. Later, she would hear her mother arriving …
scent of Youth Dew soothes, clicking of mother`s stilettos echoes of her cough
I know it sounds silly for someone my age…I’m a mom of 2 adults children, a grandmother and yet…going to see Mom this morning…waiting for her to wake up…like I was a kid and she would work late hours as a hairdresser back in the ’50’s…I let her sleep in because I knew she was tired. When she would wake up, she would smile …always have that look that mothers have when they adore their children…that look that said how special I was to her. It made me feel like sticking out my chubby chest (kids were considered healthy only if chubby in those days).
She would put her hands in my hair and gently minouche me under my chin…sometimes squeeze those chubby cheeks (which I liked less) and gently flutter her finger on my neck. I knew I was the best kid on the block when she did that!
This morning, she was sleeping in her chair…I was stroking her hair and forehead gently…minouching her forehead just so she could feel a faint touch…she woke up gradually and reached out her hands…touched my hand with her left hand and lifted her right hand and touched my neck ever so gently…just a tender soft minouche…her eyes appeared a little less glazed for a split second…”Awwwwww I have my mom back!” I thought to myself with a smile.
We had a nice visit…I fed her lunch and I left feeling ready to brave the world this week ’cause I had my “mommy fix”.