Better than ruby slippers

My husband and I exchanged our wedding vows 30 years ago today. We repeated after the minister. For better for worse. Check. For richer or poorer. Check. In sickness and in health. Check again.

Little did I know that my husband had another vow in mind that he would check off from that day forward. If he had written it in, he would have said, "I will do my best to make all your wishes come true." It's almost as if I was granted the pair of ruby slippers I had always wanted. 

Over the years, he has taken me to places I've always wanted to see. He has given me the most heartfelt gifts. And, he has carefully looked out for me as we've navigated through life together.

When our daughter was born and suddenly I was at home all day with a brand new baby, he brought home a couple of cassette tapes. (Itunes had not yet been invented.) He thought I would enjoy the company of some new music. I loved his thoughtfulness.

I also loved the Gloria Estefan cassette tape he picked out. I sang along to "Don't Want to Lose You" and "Cuts Both Ways." I took the tape in the car, on trips and played it as background music when friends came over. But, somewhere along the way, the cassette disappeared. 

When Christmas rolled around, he asked me what I wanted. I'm sure I gave him quite a list but one thing I knew I wanted was the missing cassette tape by Gloria Estefan.

I wrote: Gloria Estefan tape, the one we had, the one we lost.

Christmas morning arrived. No doubt he had checked off my list. I figured I would find the cassette at the bottom of my stocking. But it wasn't there. He explained. 

He had searched several music stores for Gloria Estefan's, "The One We Had, The One We Lost."  On Christmas Eve, he headed to Tower Records, the largest music story in our area.

"I'm looking for Gloria Estefan's, 'The One We Had, The One We Lost,'" he said to the store clerk. 

She replied, "I've never heard of it."

Slightly irritated, he said, "You must have. We used to have it."

After exhausting all possibilities, she invited him to look through a big box filled with old cassettes they kept behind the counter. After riffling through the box to no avail, he finally gave up. 

Giving up was not an easy task for him since it's not in his nature and he wanted to give me exactly what I wanted.

After telling me the story of how he had searched all the music stores, how he had confronted the store clerk and how he had sat on the floor and dug through the big box of old cassettes, he asked, "Are you sure that's the name of the album?" 

That's when I had to tell him, "No. All I know is, it's the one we had, but we lost it."

I can't remember what his reaction was nor can I remember what I actually got for Christmas that year. However, I will always remember what he went through to give me exactly what I wanted.

In the end, his effort to make me happy was far better than any real gift he could have given me.

The story of the "One We Had, The One We Lost" has been told time and time again. And every time I tell it, I'm reminded of how my husband has spent the last 30 years trying his hardest to give me everything my heart desires. I guess I don't need ruby slippers after all.

With these slippers, I thee wed.

  

Eleven years of wonderful

I realize how much television and movies have influenced me when I try to describe my mother. Like Mary Poppins, she was "practically perfect in every way."

Other references  that come to mind ... the first line from the "Love Story" theme, "Everybody Loves Raymond" and a line spoken by Julia Roberts in the movie, "Steel Magnolias."

I can hear Andy Williams crooning, "Where do I begin?" I could belt it out myself.

Where do I begin to tell the story of how great a mom can be? It's impossible for me to explain all that made her wonderful. 

My mother had a knack for turning ordinary household items into the most magical play things. She knew how to make everything special. 

A jar of buttons in all shapes, sizes and colors poured onto a tray was one of my favorite past times. I loved comparing them, sorting them and picking out my favorite ones. I just wasn't good at sharing them.

A small paper bag filled with the rubber rings from Mason jar tops could keep me occupied for hours. The rings became my bracelets that painfully pinched the hairs on my arms as I pushed them up to my elbow. I loved to toss them, stack them and count them. Again, I just wasn't good at sharing them. 

My mother could fold a piece of white paper and make a few cuts and suddenly I had a string of paper dolls all holding hands. She cut the bottoms out of paper cups and behold,  I had a pair of sandals. She turned a bowl full of water and a bit of dish washing liquid into a giant mountain of bubbles with a few cranks from an old-fashioned hand-mixer. Before I knew it,  I had the most magnificent foamy drinks for my tiny tea sets. Pretend drinks, of course. 

Like Raymond, everybody loved my mother. My family, my cousins, my neighbors, even my classmates.

Every Easter, she would make candy bunnies for my class using pastel colored marshmallow eggs. She carefully cut pieces of marshmallows and stuck them on as long ears and bobbed tails. And, finished them off by meticulously painting eyes, a nose and whiskers.

Since she saved everything from my childhood, I still have the thank you notes addressed to her that were carefully printed from each student. They are in a box with all of my Valentines, report cards, birthday cards and art projects in my basement. 

I know it's a fire hazard but the boxes of keepsakes are my connection to my past...my connection to my mother.

Everything about her was special. And though I only had her for eleven years, I wouldn't trade my short time with her for a lifetime with any other mother.

In the words of Shelby in "Steel Magnolias," Julia Roberts says, "I would rather have thirty minutes of wonderful than a lifetime of nothing special."

Happy Mother's Day to my mother. A woman who created my most treasured memories, who was loved by everyone and who, quite simply, was wonderful.

Thank you for all of the wonderful!