Today I was remembering my Mom - a chatty, busy woman who raised four daughters in the two-bedroom suite behind the family bakery - and, I think, "How DID she do it?!" I remember the crowded quarters of my own childhood home - the hooks behind the door with no proper closet, the wall to wall beds to accommodate four young girls and the outhouse dash challenging my short, chubby legs. My Mom, with her arms elbow deep in punching down vats full of bread dough, rolling cookies with a toddler at her knees tugging on her apron for one more bite of cookie dough. My Mom, standing by the cauldron of hot oil fishing Saturday morning doughnuts out and patiently rolling them in sugar and loading them on a fork for my hot breakfast treat. Not many moments really to share stories or walks or quiet Mother/Daughter talks but still, steadfastly loving and never giving up on me throughout my childish escapades, jealous pranks and teenage angst. My Mom - time taken from a busy schedule to make sure my cherished chewing gum really did go on the bedpost before tucking me in for my afternoon nap and patiently shaking me as my teen aged body craved just a few more minutes of sleep - again! My Mom - sewing my first long gown until 2 AM and accepting my brief thank you and broad smile as payment enough for saving the day - my Mom showed her love. It was not a Norman Rockwell picture of parenting in the 1950's but it was my Mom's love sandwiched between work and living- a fitting metaphor for me, the baker's daughter. Thanks Mom - I miss you at such odd moments but especially at this moment! I am sure she would answer my question this way: "How could I NOT do it - that is what Mom's do!" Happy Mother's Day, Mom.