"my mother is a poem / i'll never be able to write"
momma and me
i've been wanting to write about my mom for a long time so today seems like the perfect day.
my momma, susan spring, is a very special woman. i don't even know how to put it into words. she loves things to be pretty and clean and feminine. she will give all her things away. she laughs louder and more freely than anyone. she is up for anything. she loved having five children and raised us up to make creative projects, to play music, to play outside, to pretend, to daydream and to read, read, read. she loves old things and stories and nostalgia and films and books. she is interested in everything and everyone, curious and vibrant and beaming with life.
here she is back in the day, sunkissed southern california beauty.
and after she and pops got married, out in the anza borrego desert.
and as a young mother with her girls (this is my dad's favorite picture in the whole world. he is obsessed with the looks on each of our faces.)
always goofing around, having fun, full of unchecked spunk and joy.
the family grows! and she's lovely of course.
she's up for any adventure. even a little karaoke.
she likes to meet people and chat with them: everyone, anyone, even the usher at the movie theater.
she loves being a nana and absolutely ADORES her grandkids:
she'll even model for me for my shop. she says older women need vintage inspiration too!
that laugh! that wonderful silliness! it's infectious and exhilerating.
she's been through a LOT of changes in the past year or so and i'm proud of how she's grown.
no matter what she does, she'll always be inspiring and true-hearted and full of love.
i hope her journey now leads her to the most magical places.
oh, and by the way she lives with darin and i right now which is extra fun.
she does little kind things for us all the time: folds our laundry, cooks us some vegetarian lasagna, brings us home books or movies, gives us leftover treats from a library brunch, leaves me notes in the morning.
she plants flowers all around and then when she comes home from work she'll come bursting in:
"did you smell the purple petunias?! did you see how big that red tulip has gotten?! come see our columbines! they're like little fairy houses!"
she gets so excited and spreads it to everyone.
here's to you, mamma mia!