Today is Mother’s Day here in Sweden, so this is my mother four years before I was born on a game show hosted by none other than comedian Groucho Marx.
I can’t remember any part of my childhood or have any recollection of my mother that would make her worthy of celebrating today. Which is sad on several levels.
Truth be told, I would have loved to love and be loved by her. And even if I know in my heart of hearts that my mother loved me, at least instinctively, as most mothers love their offspring (regardless of species), my memories of our relationship are to this very day so painful that I can only imagine such love and not feel it where it counts.
My mother’s mother, on the other hand, my grandmother Agnes (Elle’s namesake), was an amazing woman and incredibly impactful during my early, formative years while I was visiting her and grandfather Eskil in Trollhättan, Sweden. So, it’s her and Charlotte, who is also an amazing mother, that I’ll celebrate today.
Another reason to celebrate this day is that my father’s old buddy and friend of the family, Fred Nicholas, turns an astonishingly impressive 101 today. He’s celebrating with his family in Los Angeles and if it hadn’t been for this prolonged pandemic, we’d be there too.