My mom was 28 in this picture. It was 1966.

Here's Mom and me. Melancholy was her default setting and so beautiful.

Here's a contrasting pic. Mom and Dad with my older brother (sorry about the flash!)

What lovely mamas, and what a lovely thread where we can honor and remember them.

My mom has been my best friend for just about as long as I can recall. I have distinct memories of her putting me on the handlebars of her bicycle when I was very little (around the age I am in the photo below) and riding around the neighborhood. One of our favorite things to do was to go to the historic cemetery near our home, and I can still practically feel the sweet summer mornings in the air when I remember. It was peaceful and pretty there, and I got to where I would ask, "Mama, can we go see if anybody 'new' died today?" Sounds morbid. It wasn't. :-)

I went through typical teenage rebellion where I thought I knew it all and she knew absolutely nothing. I'll never forget walking in the mall with her when I was 14 and making some smart-arse comment. She'd had enough of me, because she reached over and popped me hard on the butt. I was mortified, believing I was much too old to be treated like a child. Oh, how much I still had to learn about "my place" in the world!

There's almost never a day that goes by where she and I don't have some form of communication. We only live about 5 minutes apart, but because of busy schedules we don't get to see each other that often. Email or phone calls keep us close.

Mom is a professional pianist and I have never heard anyone play as beautifully as she. That's something else I only came to appreciate as I got older. When you grow up with certain things, you tend to take them for granted. She'll be 77 this year, and I fully realize that it's very unwise to take anything for granted at this point. I know how very fortunate I am to have a mother who is also my best friend.

As many of you know, she and I have made trips to the UK together for the past couple of decades. I can't even begin to recount the stories we've come back with. Suffice it to say that we have stored up some pretty amazing memories, for which I am eternally thankful. Here we are enjoying our pints of cider at a lovely old pub in medieval Lavenham, Suffolk. Shortly after we finished these drinks, Mom was invited to play the old piano just out of view, and the entire pub sang and danced. One of the regulars remarked that it was a "right old knees-up", and oh, yes, it was. Such good times.

Yesterday on NPR I listened to a story about a young man who made grindcore/punk music and had included his mother on one of the songs. He spoke of once having a mohawk and being stopped by a police officer who asked him, "What would your mother think about the way you look?" His response? "Sir, my mother fully supports my right to be different." That sums my mother up perfectly.

Happy Mom's Day.

TR, you look just like your Mom!

What lovely photos and stories so far! I look forward to reading more. Unfortunately, I do not have a relationship with my mother anymore, and cannot recall a single nurturing memory of her. My goal is that my children will someday recall heartwarming stories about me, like you all have above. I'm hoping they do.

Don't mean to be a killjoy here. Mother's Day is always bittersweet for me. But I strive every day to be a loving, supportive mother for my kids. Cherish your relationships with your mothers!

ETA, all your mothers are beautiful. And TR--I agree--you look just like your lovely mother!

High School graduation. Not sure of how old in the other.

Several years ago I made a collage of photos of my mom: childhood, late teens, bride, young mom and college graduate when she was close to 70. I was 39 when she died and still miss her like crazy.

"Big Red" in color, 1955. (She was 5'2" on a good day). Me and mom, 1961. Pretty representative of our general dispositions throughout life. Great collage DLM, I'll have to make a similar one when I get some time. My current task is just sorting, organizing and editing family photos so they are all archives and stored properly. Love dad's look Mayflowers. And I'll have to remember "Melancholy as a default setting" because that is my SO, and his grandson takes right after him!

I miss her so very much!

(((Lisa))) You made my heart ache. You are a sweetheart and I'm sure your children will have a lot of great memories.

Your mother's are all gorgeous! My favorite picture of my DM (her graduation picture) is at our other home. She was a classy, beautiful lady. We had our moments when I went through my teen years when we gladly could have throttled each other but from the time I left home we became best friends and were each other's biggest fan. We used to tease each other about our mutual admiration society. I am without her now and my heart aches with longing to share our laughter. When we were together it was a hoot a minute. What I loved the most about her was her ability to laugh at herself when she did something silly.

One day when I was visiting her for a week her refrigerator died. Thank goodness it was winter and we hauled all of her refrigerated goods to her screened porch, then braved the snow to go to Lowe's to buy a new fridge. She picked the one she wanted, paid for it and she was supposed to call back in to schedule delivery. We went home and the next day she called to schedule the delivery. Well, they put her on hold, came back and said they couldn't find her name in the database. She was becoming more and more frustrated and insisted that it was paid for and how could they not have her info. All of a sudden she had that "Oh crap" look on her face and I heard her ask who she was talking to. Turns out she had called Home Depot instead of Lowe's. We laughed until we cried and every time we looked at each other we would break out in gales of laughter. She was the smartest lady I knew but could do so many dizzy things. We often thought some of our times together was like an I Love Lucy episode.