September 19th, 2010
Today is my mom’s birthday.
We rarely speak anymore; her depression is hostile and cold and after cutting me off completely 4 years ago we only recently regained a contact that is still strained and superficial.
Still…she is my mother. I feel her influence every single day.
I’m a Yankee fan because of my mom.
I grew to love the comedic talents of Victor Borge, Flip Wilson, the Smothers Brothers, and Laugh-In, thanks to my mom.
I will travel far and wide to give my kids the best opportunities, because she tried her best, especially in my early years, not to let finances or geography limit my world.
I am a wordsmith because my mother is one.
I am an Anglophile because my mother is one.
I drink tea rather than coffee because my mother drinks tea – English Breakfast, of course.
And my mother’s love for music from all genres exposed me to many who would become my favorite artists and composers. Tchaikovsky. Debussy. Rachmaninoff. The Bee Gees. Elton John. Nancy Wilson. Johnny Mathis. The Rolling Stones. The Beatles. Al Green. Marvin Gaye. Roberta Flack. Stan Getz. Dave Brubeck.
My musical taste has expanded to include flamenco, neo-soul, house music, and so much more, but I can never forget my musical foundation: a simple record player, some 45s and 33s (and even 78s!), and my mother, dancing and singing away her sorrows… if only for a while.
Happy birthday, Mum; here’s one of your favorites. I know you will never read this…but I dedicate it to you.