Remembering my mother

I tried to write this post for Mother's Day last year, but this blog was too new and I wasn't yet ready to open up my heart and share my feelings. But now my blog feels like home to me and so I felt ready to write this post...

Mother's Day is this weekend and my daughters are excited for whatever plans they are cooking up with their Daddy...scurrying around and whispering secrets. I'm looking forward to the sweet things they have planned, but my thoughts as always, turn to my mother...

My family is Cuban and my mother, along with my father and siblings immigrated to the U.S. in the late 60's. I was born a few years later in Chicago...a far cry from tropical Cuba! My mom was everything you imagine a Latina mom to be...she was passionate, a fantastic cook, loud, funny, quick to hug and slow to judge. She was a woman of strong faith and she walked the walk when it came to her beliefs.

My mom was a character and I like to think I inherited some of her silliness! She would break out into song at any given moment. She was a terrible singer (which I definitely inherited) and she knew it and that just made her sing even louder! Once when she was singing her heart out in church, I couldn't help but tease her a little. She smiled at me and said "I'm singing for Jesus, I don't care what anyone else thinks" and just sang louder! That was just how she rolled...not really caring too much about what others thought of her.

She loved to quote movies...Gone with the Wind was one of her favorites. She loved quotes of any kind really...from the more serious poems of Jose Marti (the Cuban poet & revolutionary) to irrelevant TV shows & commercials...she had a quote for everything. Despite so much sadness in her life (stemming from many heartbreaks including leaving her entire family behind in Cuba and never seeing them again)...she still managed to find joy in each and every day.

She was a "domestic Goddess" in every sense of the word. She could cook ANYTHING. I mean that woman would open an empty refrigerator and somehow magically put a yummy dinner on the table. She gardened and grew beautiful flowers and plants. She could really sew. She sewed many of our clothes growing up...including my sisters wedding dress, bridesmaid dresses and my prom dress. I have her sewing machine tucked away and one of these days I hope to do it justice and learn to use it.

I inherited none of my mother's skills...save one. I learned to bake.

My mom loved for me to bake! For some reason she had zero interest in teaching me to cook (a skill I still am mostly lacking) but loved to help me whip up some sweets. I started baking cakes at the age of 9 and she encouraged me greatly in this area. She really loved for me to bake cookies and by high school, she had me baking and putting together Christmas gifts for her coworkers each year.

My love of birthday cakes comes directly from her. We didn't have money for many luxuries growing up, but even if there weren't alot of presents a birthday always included a homemade cake. To this day, I still cling to the strong belief that a birthday is not a birthday without a cake! Now for all her culinary skills, my mom didn't bake cakes from scratch. She was fiercely loyal to her Betty Crocker. Birthday cakes were typically yellow cake with chocolate frosting...although every now and then she would try something new. Like the year she tried the jello rainbow cake recipe she cut out of a magazine...I thought that was the coolest thing ever! I still have many of her cake pans and tools and they make me feel like she's in the kitchen with me each time I use them.

I miss my mom. I miss her constantly. When you lose a parent, you move on with your life, but it's a wound on your heart that never quite heals and can be ripped open suddenly...without notice...leaving you feel like a vulnerable child. She passed away when I was 2 months pregnant with my oldest daughter. My baby's birth was a bittersweet one as I so much wanted my mom to hold my precious girl. My deepest regret in this world is that my daughters will never know the amazingly loving person my mother was. She would have adored my girls...she would have showered them with the same unconditional fierce love she showed me.

It's been almost 7 years since we lost her. She suffered from Alzheimer's for the 7 years before her death...7 years full of some of the worst heartache I've ever known. Sometimes I have to close my eyes and really concentrate to remember life before she became ill. I try not to dwell on the years when she was sick...despite the fact that those are the freshest memories. But that's a story for another post...

I wonder what she would think about the person I am now...about my life...the mother that I am. I wonder what she would think of the cakes I'm making now. I think she would have been proud. I know she would have been thrilled that I ventured into business for myself...she encouraged my independent spirit for as long as I could remember. My mom was always my biggest fan...celebrating everything I did with passionate support! 

Despite the fact that I am forty years old, there are days when life gets too complicated, too heavy with burden and the little girl in me longs for my mom. I long to curl up next to her on the couch...for her hugs of encouragement...for the wisdom of her perspective...for her unconditional love.

I look at my beautiful daughters sitting next me and I hope that I show them that same love...that they will grow strong and happy with the security of my love as their foundation. I hope that they will be fearless in pursuit of their dreams knowing that no matter what, I will be here to cheer them on. That I am and always will be, their biggest fan!