The collage above is of my mother, GraceAnne Andreassi DeCandido, with me in 1972, 2009, 2016, and 2018.
This Mothers Day was delightful, despite the drag effect of Wrenn’s busted wing. We went over to my parents’ place for dinner, where my father and I collaborated on preparing a meal of fried chicken. We make excellent fried chicken, if I do say so myself — we use flour and cornmeal and spices for the breading, which goes on the chicken parts after they’re soaked in buttermilk, and it’s very very yummy. Helga, my second mommy, made biscuits, and also ginger bread for dessert. (One mother wanted other people to make the meal; the other wanted to contribute to it.)
Today brought one of the joys of 2021 into sharp relief. Between March 2020 and April 2021, I didn’t set foot in my parents’ house for more than a few seconds. Being able to actually go in and walk around and hang out and have a meal — which we’ve done three times now, for Easter, Wrenn’s birthday, and today — feels like it’s the first time I’ve been in the house in a thousand years. Walking through the living room felt like I was reliving a childhood memory, it’s been so long since I’ve been able to go into my parents’ place regularly. It was disturbing, but also pleasant in its own way.
Anyhow, happy Mothers Day to my two Mommies, to the Godmommy, to Fur Mommies Wrenn, Meredith (and her cohort in Fur Mommy-dom, Anneliese), and ToniAnn, and to all the mothers out there (you know who you are)!