This is my beautiful mother Felicia.
This picture was taken on a particularly difficult day.
You wouldn’t know it because my mother exudes grace, love and warmth.
You might wonder why this post is called Mor.
Mor is the Danish word for mother.
After a semester living in Denmark, I came home using Danish quite a bit,
but the only word that stuck was “Mor”.
The name fits my mom so well.
Even better if Mor had an “e” at the end.
That is what my Mor is with each passing year:
I was reading a book last night.
One of the characters is Daphne du Maurier.
Rebecca by Daphne du Maurier is one of my favorite books.
I remember searching for a book to read one summer in my early
teens and Mom suggesting one of her favorite books.
I remember devouring the book.
From the very first sentence…
Last night I dreamt I went to Manderley again.
I was hooked.
I felt so grown up reading this thriller.
I also remember that inkling that perhaps maybe
one day, I could be just like my Mom.
Every couple of years, I re-read Rebecca.
It never ceases to disappoint.
I never cease hoping that I can be more and
more like my Mor.
Happy Mother’s Day Mor!
I love you more and more!
*if it were possible