The Little Things Moms Do

WE ARE MAJAMAS Magazine 41 MAY 2016 WE LOVE Final

My mom was the writer extraordinaire. She was the master of the thoughtful note writing each by hand in her beautiful Palmer penmanship. She was way ahead of the texting trend sending notes to anyone she’d be thinking of. When I was young, she’d send one of her kids down the block to deliver a get-well note to an ailing friend and she always had a pile of letters ready for my dad to mail on his way from work.

My mom had five kids and all of us received her notes making us feel as if we were her only child.

When I was in college, I’d receive an encouraging note in the mail along with a five or twenty dollar bill. This was a practice she kept up long after we were “self sufficient”, working and married. Birthday cards were sent with cash and throughout the year we’d receive news articles with notes next to them saying things like, “I thought of you,” or “something to think about?” Regardless of the content, she ALWAYS wrote a long note about the birds she was feeding or the party she and my dad hosted.

Little notes to stay in touch and let us know she was thinking of us.

Christmas time was busy for her and she’d start her annual holiday cards early. She insisted on personalizing each one, writing something special and we were taught to NEVER just sign a Christmas card. “That’s so impersonal.” Hundreds would go out a year and not a one, not even for the postal carrier, was sent with less than two paragraphs of her hand-written word.

My mom showed affection with more than her words. She loved a house full of kids and she’d welcome anyone who happened to be over. Our kitchen and dining room were in constant use and I can still see my mom boiling pots of water for pasta and making meatballs for armies of kids. There were always friends over and lots of live music coming from our basement, garage or sunroom. My mom would try to teach us how to harmonize and somehow she could convince even the shyest guest to belt out Sinatra or a Beatles tune.

I can still remember my father’s face when he was at my oldest brother’s 50th birthday party. My mom had already passed but one of my brother’s friends came up to my dad and said, “Mr. Caprio, I just want to thank you for letting me live in your basement that summer.” My dad looked at me, shook his head and asked, “Who was that kid and when did he live in our basement?”

My mom couldn’t turn her back on anyone or anything. She took in every stray cat or dog we’d find walking home, and although my dad was not a fan of pets, he tolerated them. She was a registered nurse and was always getting called to check on a sick kid or to administer a neighbor’s medicine. She was the first to volunteer for the PTA luncheon or help the school band with a charity event. She loved puns and admired anyone with a great sense of humor. To her, “a good sense of humor shows true intelligence because you have to be smart to be funny.” She was fascinated by knowledge and read thousands of books. As she got older, her biggest nuisance was her reading glasses that were always lost and rarely where she put them last.

Mothers Day Photo.JPG

Two weeks before my mom died, she and I discussed whether or not she’d be able to “communicate” with me after death. Like me, my mom was fascinated with ghosts but she hesitated when I asked her if she’d “contact” me.  She said, “Oh honey, I wouldn’t want to scare you.” – “You wouldn’t scare me mom,” I said, “but I hope you wouldn’t show up in a mirror or float around my room.” We both laughed and suddenly the realization of what was happening began to sink in. My mom was dying and just the thought of it made me frantic. How was I going to go on without her?

My youngest daughter was only six months old when my mom died and I’m sad my girls never got to know her. She was funny, witty and fashionable but mostly she was the kindest person I’ve ever known. She put everyone else ahead of herself and she would have sacrificed anything for her kids.

It’s been 19 years since my mom died and not one day has passed that I don’t think of her. I’ll hear a song she’d sing with my dad or a pun I know she’d laugh at and I know she’s here with me.

I’d like to think of our texts as the modern day version of my mom’s “note.”
Although I think she’d hate the texting and semi-impersonal format, I know she’d be thrilled with the ease of sending her support and staying connected to the ones she loved.

-Germaine, Company Owner & Designer

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