Beautiful People

My mother was beautiful. She had high cheek bones, full lips and almond shaped, blue eyes. She was tall and she was thin when she was younger. She had short, dark hair. People say I look like her. We are exotic-looking women. At least that's what I've been told.

Smoking didn't marr her beauty. She didn't get those little wrinkles around her mouth like so many women get. Maybe that's partly what kept her in denial with the cigarettes. She couldn't see any ill effects of the smoking so why quit?

I was a child in the 1960's and a teen ager in the 1970's. Women's fashion changed so much over those two decades. My dad used to carry a picture of my mom that she had taken at a beauty salon. She just had her hair done and she had this ice-blue cape on. She looked stunning. I remember a bathing suit she had at that time, too. It was a pink and white gingham one piece suit. My mother could be so classy.

In the summer she'd wear pedal pushers and white Keds and a cotton button-down shirt. My mother always looked so clean and pressed. She'd buy us girls something new each summer from Penneys. That was my mom. She was kind of like the JC Penney version of Jacqueline Kennedy. Clean, crisp and energetic.

As I grew older I valued comfort over looks so my clothing style gravitated toward jeans and mocassins. (I also looked pretty darn cool). My mom's style changed, too. She wore more polyester and olive colored clothes. Earth tones and clunky jewelery were popular in the 70's. She picked out new wallpaper for the kitchen - dark brown flowers on a white background. It was hard to find beauty and elegance in the 70's.

I didn't pay much attention to my mom's clothes and style after I grew up and moved away. But I remember those earlier decades and the influence my mom had over my own personal style. It was important for my mother's generation to have poise and grace. Not so much with my generation. My mom had lots of physical energy. The house was always spotless. Our clothes and faces were always clean.

I didn't inherit my mom's energy levels. My kids rarely had clean faces when they were little. My house was never spotless. My mom was a housewife so she had more time to tend to these things. I worked outside the home. My parents expected me to keep my life cleaner but I couldn't muster up the physical and emotional energy to have that kind of lifestyle. I valued beauty but also valued my own personal needs of comfort and calmness. It's hard to be calm if you're constantly chasing dust bunnies.

I have a memory - a place that I go to in my mind when I want to feel completely serene. I picture myself about ten and sitting on the wood floor in our old living room. It's springtime and my mom is cleaning. The house smells faintly of lemon pledge and ammonia. She just washed the window sheers and a breeze is making them billow. The house is so beautiful. My mother is lovely and happy. I'm at peace with the world. My mother loves me so much. I can feel it. With every breath I take I feel it.