My Mom, My Angel

June 15, 1936. The day my mom’s story began.

Before she was my mom, she was Joanie. The oldest daughter with three little brothers. Her parents divorced when she was young, and she learned pretty early in life what it meant to work hard and take care of others.

She went on to become the first girl in her family to go to college (against her father’s wishes), graduated from Syracuse University and worked for SU. She then became a business teacher at CNS and then Liverpool High School.

And let me tell you, she LOVED her high school kids. She made learning fun, and I was so proud to call her my mom, especially when she was teaching so many of my friends.

At 29, she married my dad on Thanksgiving Day in their little apartment. They didn’t have much, but they had love. And eventually, they had my two older brothers and me. 💛

Mom loved a bargain! Thrift shopping, fashion, finding something beautiful for next to nothing. That was her kind of shopping! 😂

She made our house a home doing many home projects herself, as early as 5 am and usually fast asleep by 9pm. Homemade dinners, candles lit almost every night, saying grace together, and ALWAYS something delicious for dessert. Her cannolis, pizzelles, pudding pies and ice cream pies were the BEST!

Her happiest place? The lake, surrounded by family. She loved traveling, hiking, reading, and getting together with her college girlfriends every summer.☀️

But more than anything, she loved being a mom and Grammy. Oh how I wish she had more time with her six grandchildren. Fortunately, she did get to celebrate their births, birthdays, holidays, milestones and all the in between for about 12 years. Very thankful.

Mom taught us to work hard, dress for success, live within our means, keep our faith strong, put family first, and count our blessings. Some of her greatest quotes she shared were, “all that glitters is not gold, when the going gets tough, the tough get going, the grass is not always greener on the other side, the early bird gets the worm, and don’t worry, just pray.” And boy, did she practice what she preached!

To some she was Joanie, Aunt Joanie, Grammy, Pepperoni, or Mrs. Hall.

But to me, she was simply Mom and my best friend.

It’s been 15 years since I lost her, and I still miss her like crazy. I’ve made a promise to myself and her that the first 74 years of her life will forever be celebrated. Her last year, well, I choose to remember seeing her transition to heaven with divine love, courage, strength and the grace of God. I will forever be learning from her giving heart, fashion sense, motherly love, cooking lessons with a pinch of this and a pinch of that, her wisdom, faith in God, suffering and courage.

Losing your mom puts you in a club nobody wants to belong to. But here I am, along with so many of you. And even after all these years, I’ve learned that grief and gratitude can live hand in hand: I can ache for the years we didn’t get while still feeling endlessly thankful for every year we did.

So instead of measuring her life by the time since she left, I’m choosing to measure it by the love she gave, the lessons she taught, and the memories she left behind. I’ll keep telling her stories, carrying her traditions forward, and looking for the little pieces of her that still show up in our family every day.

Because a mom’s  love doesn’t end when her life does. Her love keeps speaking through her kids and grandkids, the kindness she inspired, and the memories we shared with her. Her memories that will forever change lives, share hope and provide comfort.💛