When I was little, you used to let me sit on your vanity stand and watch you apply your raspberry pink lipstick every morning. I remember you pulling your chocolate colored hair back into a low ponytail, held together by a big clip as I gazed on. That lipstick, that look of yours, your elegance, your beauty. That time we spent together, small moments but the best moments. I was only two, but I remember it all. The way you carefully glossed over the shape of your lips, handing me the tube to hold in my hands as you finished your makeup. When you were done, you used your pinky finger to dab a little of that raspberry color onto my lips.
When I was little, I remember you filling the house with the smells of freshly baked chocolate chip cookies after school, your famous “madanad” (marinara) sauce on Sunday afternoons, and the feeling of a mother’s love every day. I remember you teaching me how to make “pizza fritta” (fried dough) on Christmas Eve, triple layered brownies for team dinners, and chicken parm because every Italian should know how to make it.
When I was growing up, I remember you giving me my first mascara and helping me apply it to my eyelashes. I remember you going fabric shopping with me to make colorful headbands before every field hockey game. I remember you waking me up every morning before school with my breakfast already waiting on the table for when I came down the stairs. I remember sitting with you in our Adirondack chairs as the day turned into dusk, sipping our coffees and talking about everything and nothing. I remember when Kate, Jonathan and Kyle all left for college and we spent endless hours watching One Tree Hill episodes. I remember you at every one of my field hockey or softball games, cheering me on. It never mattered what we were doing, all that mattered was that we were doing them together.
When I was a little older, you taught me one of the most important lessons. You told me to always “go the extra mile.” No matter what my passions were and what I wanted to pursue, you always told me to do my best but always put in that little extra time to make something ordinary turn into extraordinary. I told you I love to write and you told me to write a novel. I told you I love to bake and you told me to bake with shapes and colorful decorations. I told you that I wanted to start a blog and you told me to make it the best blog it could be.
Mom, all of these moments and memories are special to you & i. You are the one that inspired the name of this blog. You are the one that has helped me realize that some of the smallest moments in life are the most precious things that anyone can hold onto. Even though I’m working in the real world and living in a big city, you always remind me of how special our bond is. How special the littlest things that you did and said helped me become the person I am today.
You have helped me with my ideas for this blog all along the way but this one is a surprise for you. Happy Mother’s Day, Mom. Thank you for everything you do. Thank you for you & i.