She enjoyed having to wait. People around her would become characters in stories she'd make up. Story making was a hobby of hers. Often she'd invite you to join in. As you gained experience, she'd take greater leaps. Simple things on the street would develop complex plot twists and even find themselves in other eras or places.
She was a bit on the quirky creative side and some of that may have rubbed off on me and my sister. Here are a few lessons I learned:
° It's good to have some boredom in your life. It encourages you to try something new.
° It's fine to not be great at something if you enjoy it.
° You need several very different interests because they'll have conversations with each other if you just listen.
° Don't worry about names and dates in school. "How" and "why" are better.
° chocolate is good, pie is good, ice cream is good.
° Your friends may turn out to be at least as important as your family. Find the good ones.
We were never pushed to do homework school. My parents were busy enough that our upbringing was more semi-supervised free range. There were a lot of books and trips to the library. The reward for a good report card we'd get an ice cream cone from Dairy Queen. Perfect marks scored a banana split or milk shake. And even if she didn't understand our interests, she'd support us how best she could.
When I was about fifteen I read Edwin A. Abbott's Flatland - probably the book that had the biggest impact on me until I went to college. As I described the world Abbott created, Mom ran with it and developed a richer story and asked some "how" questions. Those questions started me down a path that taught me a little engineering - subjects she was unfamiliar with. I began to see the value of story telling - particularly those visual stories.
Besides stories she enjoyed drawing and painting. She wasn't very artistic, but spent a lot of her free time playing with projects. I wondered why as my sister's art was much better. Then I went off to college and found myself drawn to sketching. I was and still am terrible, but it's a form of play that can take me to a state of flow. I realized she was probably doing the same thing. My sister became an accomplished artist - some her pieces have been described as snapshots of quirky short stories. She picked up a lot from Mom too.
We celebrate those important ones through memories and recognition of how they helped us become who we are. Even now I find myself watching people and imaging stories when I'm waiting and everyone else is studying their phone. She would have laughed at how unimaginative smartphones are.
Happy Mother's Day Mom.
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