As much as we all want to believe that we make our own way in the world, we can never really escape where we came from—and I’m not referring to geographic origins. Genetically, of course, we are all equal parts Mom and Dad. But you have merely to look at the vast differences in siblings to realize that we come into this world with our own unique recipe.
While I inherited a measure of pragmatism (and a furry body) from my father, my spirit came from my mom, Barbara Avrin.
My mother, with her colorful tops and bright red lipstick, is big, bawdy, and loud. “If you can’t hide it, decorate it!” she says. And anyone who doesn’t like it can “kiss off!” she’ll say with a laugh. But the truth is, they do like it. She is the Molly Brown for the new millennium. Throughout my entire life people have always said to me, “I just love your mom. She’s outrageous.” That she is. And as we all come to realize as we get older that we are who we are, and my mom makes no apologies. She has lived her life on her own terms and plans to live out her final days the same way.
In fact, she informed me the other day that she wants to die on a cruise ship. Let me rephrase that. My mom wants to live on a cruise ship, until she dies. She’s got it all figured out.
She says that for the same price of a nursing-care facility, she could live on a cruise ship and see the world. “Think about it,” she says. “I’d never have to cook a meal; they clean your room and make your bed for you every day. If you need something in your room, they bring it to you, and there’s dancing every night!”
“What will you do with all your stuff?” I ask.
“What do I need stuff for?” she fires back. “They’ve got the fine china, the furniture, the linens, and any book you could ever want—what else do I need?”
She’s serious. And if there’s anyone that could do it, it’s my mom. Barbara Avrin can take over and light up a room faster than a SWAT team. (Think Liza Minnelli, but less shy.) An introvert she is not. She’ll sit down at dinner on the first night of the voyage and stand up an hour later with new best friends. And the next week, she’ll do it all over again.
Is her over-the-top approach to life distasteful to some? Sure. But even the quiet people are undesirable to somebody. The point is that I recognize that the greatest gift I received from my mother is the permission to be who I am. And while the “gifts” I’ve received from my parents don’t define me, just like the physical traits I’ve inherited, their spirit remains an integral part of what makes me, me.
Note: My Mom passed away very unexpectedly last week at the ripe young age of 69. The world is a less colorful…and much quieter place.
Visibility Blog By David Avrin 