Lulu's Day

This is my Mom, Lulu.

Today she is celebrating the 69th
anniversary of her 18th birthday,
which is how old she was when this
photo was taken in 1940.

I love this picture. She looks so
pretty and young and sweet,
and she was! She looks shiny,
like a new copper penny.

I never knew this young girl.
By the time we met she was
32 years old, and had a husband
and three other kids to take
care of. I didn't realize that my
mother was an individual until
she was about 40. And, sadly,
sometimes I still forget.


But, I love to look at this photo because I'm looking at the woman who's going to
be my mother. You know what I mean? I just love her. It makes me happy having
been born to her.

I see the person she was and still is and I see my Mom and feel so proud.

Today my brother is taking her to Disneyland. She said the last time she was
there it was to see Count Basie. Wow. That must have been fun.

She grew up in a great era. California's population in 1940 was about 7 million.
Can you imagine that? No traffic, no lines, everybody knew everybody in town.

Anyway, I hope she has a great time today...

and everyday.

Oh, and Mom, I want to confess that when I was in Junior High School I was
ashamed that your name was Lulu. I was afraid that my friends would make
fun of me because of the "Little Lulu" cartoons, so when they asked me, "what's
your Mom's name?" I told them "Marguerite," which is your middle name.
I feel so yucky about this, now. I mean, what a spineless piece of milk toast
I was. It's one of those hideous memories from my youth that makes me want
to "rid my crop!" (See previous blog entry about vomiting buzzards.)

Anyway, I want you to know that now my secret desire is to change my name
to...you guessed it...Lulu! Only I'm going to put an accent on the second "u"
to give it a Frenchy sound, which is appropriate given your French heritage.

Happy Birthday, Mom!

... from one Lulu to another!