The One Where I Talk About Bev. Again.

Yesterday was my Mom’s birthday and this was the first time since she’s passed (6 years) that I didn’t celebrate with Mexican food & a margarita with two of my besties in her honor. Don’t ask me why. I can’t blame the pandemic because even last year the three of us zoomed together.

My mom was fairly simple. She loved margaritas, music, baking, her family, Latin men, lottery tickets, dancing in the car, striking up conversations with total strangers (which horrified me as a kid, but I do it now), The Price Is Right & QVC.

Beverly on her 70th birthday.

I recall the conversation when I phoned her months before her 70th. “Mom, I’m gonna take you away for your birthday; I was thinking maybe a B & B in the mountains, A cute place on the beach, A spa stay or we could go to Vegas.”

Without missing a beat she said: VEGAS!

Vegas it was. We had a lovely time; we stayed in a nice hotel, enjoyed nice dinners, Mom played the slot machines as much as she wanted and we saw Jersey Boys and LOVE. Since Coach and a bajillion airline points, I met her in ATL and we flew First Class; her first time ever. Boy am I ever glad we had that get away together because just under two years later, she was diagnosed with effing ovarian cancer.

Mexican food and a margarita on her 72nd birthday. She was feeling like hell, but put on a smile for a few hours.

I stayed with her off and on durning her treatments; 2-3 weeks there, go home for a week or so, then back again. It was a good time to be with her and she really appreciated our time together. She never really complained about being sick, but I did see her cry a few times and she would say she was just feeling melancholy. Chemo was a bitch and I know she felt horrible. In hind sight, we should have skipped that altogether.

She passed away 6 weeks after that little birthday celebration and I still miss her terribly. I’ve said it before, my Mom was not a conventional Mom, she was honest when she said that Mark and I were raised by wolves. We were basically left to tend to ourselves, but hey, look how amazing I turned out?

She didn’t have an easy life. She was never financially secure & she was a notorious, self proclaimed: Poor Pecker Picker. She endured a horrible marriage to my father and watched her son slowly lose his battle with AIDS and die at 26.

I still can’t even imagine how she forged on after Mark’s death.

I think of her daily and I know that she would be SO darn proud of our girls and she’d be beside herself with us having a home in the Georgia Mountains. My Mom was born in New Jersey, lived there as a kid, then Florida as a young adult and then moved to Georgia when I was 12. You’d never know she’d lived anywhere other than Georgia as she was the embodiment of a Georgia Peach, right down to the accent. I can still hear her answering the phone: Heeeyyyyyyy

I actually started my blog for my Mom. She and I had not lived in the same state since I was 15, so this was a nice way to keep her updated on our family. My blog brought her a lot of joy, especially when I wrote about my childhood shenanigans. She would call me sometimes and we’d laugh about all the nonsense and how I’d survived it so well.

The Coach and I ended up going out for an early dinner yesterday, so I was able to have a margarita in Bev’s honor. I had to substitute a Greek salad for Mexican food, but she wouldn’t care since I could do no wrong in her eyes anyway.

If you are lucky enough to have a parent or two, call or write a note to them today. When I think of the times I did let my Mom’s calls go to voicemail when I was semi-busy, it makes me want to take a spoon to my eye.

Big hugs!


27 thoughts on “The One Where I Talk About Bev. Again.”

  1. What a great memory to have. I have an elderly uncle in California – and while he might be quite frail now, I will always remember him staying up all night in Reno, playing the slots all night and wasting the time of all the escorts that tried to chat him up at the bar 🙂

    Liked by 1 person

  2. Well, you made me cry. What a wonderful tribute. It’s nice to learn more about you, but I’m so sorry for the losses you’ve had in your life. I’m glad you had the chance to do that special trip with your mom. I recognized the inside of the Venetian right away! Thanks for sharing such precious memories.

    Liked by 1 person

    1. I swear, it was not my intention to make anyone cry.
      I remember we had a great lunch at the Venetian; we ate Mexican food and watched a wedding happen on a Gondola; only in Vegas!


  3. Your mom sounds like such a fun lady. I’m so glad you were able to take that trip, and glad that you had that margarita in her honor. Thank you for sharing these special memories with us. I’m so sorry for your loss.

    Liked by 1 person

  4. I have an enormous lump in my throat. This is the first recent post you’ve shared about your mom since I’ve been a reader of your blog. I did not know you created this space for her. Oh, Suz. I love all of this post. I hate that she’s gone. I hate that she had cancer. I hate that she had a hard life. But your relationship with her was beautiful, despite the beginnings.

    You know, I just mentioned on the podcast this week how important our stories are. How we keep people alive with our words. This blog is a beautiful legacy to your mom. It is a wonderful storybook for your daughters and for their children and so on. You must never stop writing. This post is a perfect example of why we keep writing. 🙂

    Liked by 1 person

    1. Thank you so much, Kari. Yes, we had a rough start but ended on a good note and no one can ask for more than that.
      It’s so funny now that I look back; she never once complained about her illness, the endless appointments, the way she felt like crap all the time; I think because she was so thankful that I was there with her, it kind of made up for all the bad stuff.
      We all have a story to tell and I’m so thankful that we have a place to share them. I’ve always used my blog as just that; a journal of sorts for myself and my people.

      Liked by 1 person

  5. I like this post. I like your mother’s choice of adult beverage and I like her bright red camera. The woman had class. All of my elder relatives are long gone. It’s such an odd moment when you realize you’re the oldest generation in the family now. 😳

    Liked by 1 person

    1. I agree, it does feel weird when you’re the oldest (or in my case, close to it ) in the family. Thankfully I still have my Aunt Trisha (mom’s younger sister) and we are very close.

      Liked by 1 person

  6. What a beautiful tribute to your mom! My mom’s been gone for more than 5 years now and I wish I could talk to her every day. Her birthday is very close to Mother’s Day…now that my daughter and I are together again in terms of geography, I would like to come up with a similar tradition for us to honour my mom and her Oma.


    Liked by 1 person

    1. Mom’s are special to us all.
      You should come up with something to do in her honor; she would love it.
      Aside from having lunch/margarita with my girlfriends, I also try to fit in a pedicure as Bev would also approve of that.

      Liked by 1 person

  7. This is so sweet and also heart breaking. Sad that she passed away SO young and that she had to deal with chemo and that she lived through Mark’s illness and death.

    I chuckle at the poor pecker picker predicament. Love that you whisked her away in first class. Sounds like such a fun trip.

    Thanks for sharing this. I will think of Bev next time I enjoy Mexican food and a margherita, or one, or the other.

    You’re right . . . despite being raised unconventional by wolves and all- you did turn out great. And of course she would be so proud of your girls. I didn’t realize she had put down roots in Georgia. Oh how she must smile down from heaven at your new abode. I also never realized how much you resemble your mom.

    Liked by 1 person

    1. Thank you, Ernie.
      My Mom was proud of everything I did….honestly I think because I made so many different choices in life than she did. Starting with choosing the most amazing spouse; she adored Coach so much.
      We lived in Florida until I was 12, then she (we) made the leap to GA. Sadly, she struggled even more financially there and I had to move back to Florida and live with my Dad at 15 while Mark moved out onto his own at 19. So, I’ve not lived with her since then or even in the same state.


  8. Your mom sounds downright neat, for lack of a better word. You don’t see a lot of 70-year-olds drinking margaritas, and that’s a shame. I hope to be tossing them back when I’m that age.

    Liked by 1 person

  9. Oh, Suz, this is such a lovely tribute to your mom. I am sure you miss her horribly. I think she sounds like a really interesting woman and I think I would have liked her a lot! After all, I like her daughter 🙂 I too enjoy margaritas, music, baking, family, dancing in the car, striking up conversations with total strangers and The Price Is Right! Big hugs to you xoxoxo

    Liked by 1 person

  10. I sure can relate to how much you miss your mom as I still miss mine very much and she died 18 years ago! I used to remember all the times I got mad at her and argued with her and it would drive me crazy! Looks like you had plenty of good times with your mom and have meny memories to cherish!

    Liked by 1 person

  11. I admire you for finding the grace to move beyond the past and make a real relationship with your mother, one that was meaningful and loving and truly shared. I’m sure it wasn’t easy, but it made a loving tribute like this possible.

    Your terrific marriage, successful life/business, and happy family probably made her feel so joyful and relieved. In her heart, she could feel better about the way things started out, knowing you ended up so wonderfully.

    You have a huge heart.

    Liked by 1 person

    1. Thank you, Nance. It took me many years of growing up and getting over it to get to that place, almost 40 years, but hey, I did it!
      You nailed it on the head; since my life was/is pretty darn wonderful, it put her at ease.


  12. I have tears, both for your loss and at the beauty of this tribute to your mom. She was a beautiful woman and I am so happy you were able to take that Vegas trip with her. The next time I have a margarita, it will be in her honor.

    Liked by 1 person

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