I've never had old pictures of my Mom, at least nothing older than 70's. Recently my Dad surprised me with some ridiculously awesome pictures of her from the late 50's and early 60's, which I am over the moon about getting, as her youth was an enigma to me-but I did know she was someone I'd have been friends with. Because she passed away about 13 years ago when I was 18, I never had the chance to get the real lowdown on her life as a teen and 20-something, other than little snippets of stories she told me when I was a kid.
What I do know is that she was the quintessential Bad Girl Type. Hung around with guys in greasy motorcycle gangs and never dug the Everly Brothers in her youth, because "they were a couple of sissies"- she preferred her music and her men to be a little more rough and tumble. It's funny how certain things pass down to your children.
The woman was COOL. Not to mention a total babe. Then somehow once the 70's hit, she met my Dad and I came along, it was all over and the new chapter of her life, "The Hippie Years" began. I ruin everything. Though they were in a car club of sorts in the early 70's called The Van Klan, where my parents and their friends souped up vans in typical 70's fahion. Mushroom windows? Check. Shag carpeting? Check. Airburushed murals of wizards and unicorns? Check. She was still cool in her later years, just a different kind of cool. She was tough as nails and so strict with the rules, with curfews, with manners. I swore I'd never be that kind of parent when I grew up. Sure enough, I turned into my mother, just like she said I would one day, even though she never got to see it. But my strictness in parenting paid off and it shows in my own kid. And I've never been more proud to be just like my Mom.
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You write very well.
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