On Wednesday morning, my mother packed up a truck full of tables and chairs and couches and ottomans. She had to hire movers to do this, 'cause it's A LOT of stuff. And then she got in the Penske truck and she drove from San Diego to Fresno to pick up more stuff and then on to Rockridge, to stay with my sister. And then, all day, while I worked, she waited for me to get off of work so she could help us move it all in.

She's strong, my mother. She ran two marathons after forty. She puts the men in her "boot camp-like" class to shame. She surfs almost daily with a joy I've rarely seen anywhere. And that's just talking about her athletic ability. My mom is the most nurturing, fun, intelligent, resiliant force of nature I might ever have the opportunity to know. I could cry just thinking about how incredibly, wonderfully lucky we are to have each other. She is good to my friends. She works her ass off without expecting anything in return. And she rarely complains. Having endured much heartache and loss in her life, much suffering she didn't deserve, she has always come through with grace and class and lessons to share. It's truly a blessing for me to be in her presence.

Last night, after good friends left, having worked their asses off to help us get everything up the stairs and just so, she cleaned and organized and played around with the placement of this and that. She asked if there was anything she could do. I just looked at her wishing I could steal her away from her life to have her here. All the time. Just here with me for latte breaks and chit chat. We talked until our eyes began to droop, G propped up in her new throne of a chair and then she left for my sister's across the bay. To take the truck back and get back to the life that she put on hold just to make sure that *my* life was just so. I rarely feel unworthy. I know I must have done something right in my life to deserve her. But last night, as I watched her pull away, I wondered how, in this big, big world, I ever got so lucky to have that woman as my mommy, as my friend.

May 23, 2003