Happy Mother’s Day, everyone!
For this week’s post, I’d like to tell everyone just how amazing my Mumma is. Let’s start with a little history lesson.
March 2, 1989. The Melville twins were born.
We were planned (or at least a birth was planned — though twins run in the family, so my mother must have expected she would end up with two). The doctor told my parents that we would be boys, so for the first year or so Rebecca and Samantha (not Joshua and Samuel) were tomboys.
My parents divorced when my sister and I were very little. We could never afford any sort of daycare, so my mom taught us the route from school to her place of work, and every day after school Becky and I would take our routine journey to play with glass figurines, bean bag frogs, and seasonal flags (my mother worked at a gift shop). Eventually we moved to Yarmouth, and Mom got a job as a secretary at the church we went to (during which Becky and I played with our pog collection and the bells they had in the storage closet), then moved on up and started working at a bank — a vast improvement, though not perfect. When I finally hit age 14 and was able to get my own after-school job, I always made it a point to have money in my account, just in case a bill needed to be paid.
I take after my mom in that respect (and others). She was always the closest of her sisters to our grandparents’ house — some chalk it up to the fact that she’s the baby of the family, but I like to attribute it to her fierce loyalty. She now lives with them as they age. She’s the woman I get my chirpy personality from — she’s full of life, she’s friendly, and she wears her emotions on her sleeve. She’s also the woman I get my nerdiness from, and I am ever-grateful for that.