Three things my mother taught me:
About Diane Arbus
How to iron a shirt
The rhyming scheme of a sonnet.
This is not an exhaustive list of imparted wisdom, but in these recent days I’ve been thinking about my mom as I wander through my own life; these are moments of recollection that make me feel like I am stepping on her shadow.
What have I taught my own children?
How to ice a cake
Where the silverware belongs in a table setting
That Moses did not write the Pentateuch and David did not write (all) the psalms.
I pray that this is not an exhaustive list. I am glad that I’m not yet reduced to a shadow, and that I have time to teach other things, like:
How to make a flaky pie crust
How to love yourself
How to trust that God loves us, no matter what.
I’m still working on those three things.
I’m coming closer on the pie crust.
Our selves, our souls and bodies 
How lovely to open this up and see your beautiful mother.
I think about my mother so often. Not so much about imparted wisdom, but I see her face in certain reflections of the mirror, imagine what she would say about any given situation, and see so many charming appetizer serving plates that I inherited and never use.
Sending you a big hug and spending an extra minute today remembering your mom, Thanksgiving at your house, and random conversations with her.
And I love knowing a few of the many things she gave you, and a few of the many loving things you are giving yours.
Happy Sunday.
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