Beautiful Betty

My mom was a Betty, a born in the 1940's, grow up, get married, have two children Betty. She got married while she was still in high school and had me, her first child, two years later at age 19. I know how young that is, because I have a daughter who's that age now. Two years later, my brother came along, and her family was complete.

She occasionally worked outside the home part time. But she was a stay-at-home mom for most of my childhood. And it was a great childhood. I could roam our neighborhood from morning 'til dusk, secure in the knowledge that Mom was there if anything should go wrong.

Her life wasn't always easy. There were financial hardships. And she was a creative person who didn't get many opportunities to express that side of herself. If she had been born 20 or 30 years later, she might have found more outlets for that creativity. I often wonder what she would think of my life, what I've made of it.

She was a quiet person who got enjoyment out of simple things: a wildflower garden, sewing, baking, spending time with her parents and her kids. She worked hard to provide a nice home for us. She gave me many special memories:

• Her postcards to me while I was away for one week (yes, that's one week) with a friend. These postcards were filled with the goings-on at home, including messages from our dog, Doodles, to come home soon. He missed me.

• The many camping trips to the beach and mountains in our little Cox camper.

• The funny face Kool-Aid mugs she ordered off the back of a cereal box for me and my brother. Thirty years later, I saw a set at an antique shop, and bought them for my kids.

• Her special relationship with her parents, and the many good times I spent at their house. I sometimes sit and watch Lawrence Welk on PBS now, despite the fact that it's terribly corny, because it reminds me of those happy days.

• Her attempts to save every dying animal I ever brought to her, no matter how hopeless the case. For several months, she nursed a hummingbird we found lying on the side of the road with a broken wing. Mom fed her sugar water from a medicine dropper almost non-stop. And when Ruby died, we buried her in a small gift box under an oak tree in the front yard.

• Her crying with me when my first real boyfriend and I broke up after a year and a half.

These are just a few of the many things I remember. My mom was a great mom and a great daughter. She faced death bravely, even as her first grandchild was about to be born. She was my best friend. I still miss her every day. She was beautiful. Beautiful Betty.

Happy Mother's Day to all.