I sit here, my sixth time being celebrated as a mother, and cannot help but reflect on my own mother and all that she’s done for me, taught me, showed me and sacrificed for me. She’s kind, beautiful, driven, creative, smart, stylish, so-Southern and, most of all, loves her girls with all her being. And I want to be just. like. her. Just like my own mom. She’s the best in every sense of the word.
When she was a little girl in her first ballet recital she surely never dreamed she’d have two ballerinas of her own.
Or as she played with the dolls and donned the party dresses her daddy took her shopping for, she likely had not an inkling that she’d one day have a house full of dolls and closets bursting at the seams with party dresses.
Spending lazy afternoons down at Tybee with her own mother, she wouldn’t have believed that she’d come back decades later with her two girls and three crazy grandsons in tow.
And as she always made a point of being perfectly attired from head to toe, she certainly never thought she’d have two more to outfit.
Yet, it was clearly the role she was born to do!
Happy Mother’s Day, Marme. I love you so much!
Now, I must go tend to the littles that made me a mother myself. Don’t you just adore Mother’s Day!
xoxo