Happy Mother's Day

When I was in high school, I had a friend who drove my mother nuts. We were both in the honors program, but we came from very different families with very different expectations about our individual achievements.

My mother thought she was a bad influence, while I thought she was just what I needed. I saw myself as a fat, smart kid who didn’t fit in. More than anything I wanted to be a popular kid. And so there was June who gave me access to a totally different world. She was blond, beautiful and didn’t see her intelligence as the central part of her life. Our offenses, in today’s terms, were mild. We hid a pack of cigarettes in the stone wall down the road from my house only to find them water-logged when we went to smoke them. We sneaked out to what seemed like wild parties with kids from her side of town. And worst of all, we got noticeably drunk before our typing (yes, typing) final exam. My mother will never forget or forgive that phone call... I’m guessing – and hoping – that there is no such thing as typing class in high school today, and if there is, that there is nothing as ridiculous as a typing final.

Anyway, we graduated from high school and June and I drifted apart. I wanted to go live on a commune, but went instead to college. June went off to explore life. She worked any number of jobs, ranging from topless dancer to newspaper columnist, and lived any number of places before ending up in Key West where she lives today working in the local hospital. She loves her job as she has loved every job she’s had. But if she lost it, she’d go off and find another. She epitomizes work to live, don’t live to work.

As you can tell, June and I reconnected several years ago. We love each other as much now as we did then, admiring what we see in the other that we think is missing in ourselves. But here is what I marvel at most: June is a mother. A loving, caring, proud mother with a grown son who clearly adores her. She’d want me to mention that he is also talented and gorgeous. I am not a mother and it is still a mystery to me how that choice is made. How a wild child becomes a graceful, loving mother. How a career scientist, like my sister, came to the decision to be a single mom and now brings her skills and love to the all-consuming task of raising a child. How even men can now decide to become mothers. How my own mother is still there for me with answers to questions that have morphed from why is the sky blue to what color should I paint my hall. To all of you, happy Mother’s Day.

Kind (self) Regards,

Vicki



Vicki Wray lives in North Stamford, and until recently spent most of her waking hours in New York City as a corporate communications executive. Working for companies like Pfizer, Revlon and AOL Time Warner has allowed her to meet wonderful colleagues and a slew of interesting personalities including the president of the United States, supermodels and star athletes, famous artists and a Justice of the Supreme Court. She is a natural observer, type A personality, and a life-long "spa junkie". Vicki firmly believes in the health benefits of being kind to oneself; taking a moment to breath, relax and finding simple joy in our every day existence.

Her column, Kind (self) Regards, will be a regular feature of the Aetheria Spa blog. If you enjoy her point of view, or would like to share your ideas, please contact her at vicki@aetheriaspa.com.