Everything I know, I learned from my mom.

When I was little and we would sit coloring I would ask her, "Mommy does this color match?" "What color should I color this part?" And I would listen and color it the way she told me to. I learned the color wheel without even knowing it.

When the x's of the cross stitch weren't in the right direction she taught me how to unpick days worth of work so it would be just right. I finished my first two large stitching projects when I was eleven. They are Hummel's and they hang in my daughter's room. I can point to you the exact spot where on one of them I didn't cross the x's the right direction and decided not to show Mom.

She taught me that if you want to do something, learn something, be something- you just do. When I was twelve we drove all over Southern Utah, the Grand Canyon, Four Corners and Colorado on a road trip. I wanted to learn to crochet so she got me a book and I did. Later in college I wanted to learn how to knit, so I bought myself a book and did.

She is self taught in floral arranging, home decorating, just about anything classified as crafty or homemaking. My mother knows everything. It comes as no surprise that we are on the phone all the time.

I call her to ask, "What color should I make this quilt?"

"Where would I go for that?"

"Is it normal for Scrunch to...?"

"Go online. Look at this. What do you think?"

My relationship with Mom has been on my mind a lot this week because she is off traveling the world. She went to Singapore with my Dad for a whole week! No cell phones. I only get occasional blurbs here and there. A text message about a tat that I misinterpreted as cat, but that's about it.

I've been crafting like crazy this week and it's weird to not to have Mom a phone call a way.

"Mom, what is this missing?"

"What color should this be?"

When I would have just called her from the baking aisle in the grocery store, this week I had to stand there for almost 15 minutes, ultimately coming home with four different boxes of sugar- none of them labeled confectioners sugar, which is what I was looking for. (I learned later from my sister who ironically learned her cooking from Dad, that it is powdered sugar. I already had that.)

A few months ago I was standing in the mirror with my sister and said, "Gosh, I look just like Mom."

"Well, I wasn't going to say anything," was her response.

My sisters and I often tease each other of who is turning into Mom more.

In Sleepless in Seattle there is a line Tom Hanks uses to describe his wife Maggie. "She made everything beautiful." I think that is the greatest compliment ever paid. Except lately I'm thinking it is, "You're just like your mom." Except I want to be the younger brunette version.

Grami, we want you to come soon. I need you to tell me what you think of this.


She also taught me to win all Ward Thanksgiving Dinner centerpiece competitions.