A Mother’s Smile.

A Mother’s Smile.

My diminutive Mom (a towering 4’11”) possessed a subtle Shaquille O’Neal sized smile. Clara Sambur wore it often and in most social situations. Race, creed, religion or color of a person’s skin, it didn’t matter. She gave everyone the benefit of the doubt. She smiled at them. The response from others was usually positive. 

Then again only a total Barbarian wouldn’t love this harmless expression of friendliness emanating from such a tiny woman. 

Fortunately for me, I inherited this physical attribute. I’m not sure if the handoff mechanism was nurture, nature or both. Whatever the it was,  I’m pleased that her beguiling grin was passed onto me.

I’m certain her smile might have hidden an on and off again sadness. She never spoke about the Holocaust, yet I’m sure her Great Escape from being murdered lingered in her memories. Like most Holocaust survivors, she mentally distanced herself from the horrors. She moved on with her life.

When WW II concluded, Sid and Clara were a confirmed “item”. In 1946, they married. By 1947, my brother Alan was born. Followed by Mike in 1950. Four years later, this “Loose Cannon” of a son came into the world. Mom’s love for us was boundless. We scored endless rounds of hugs. Nurturing, affection and attention was always on the kosher menu. 

So once again, I look back at our family photos as your special day approaches. Once again, I get verklempt about losing you when I was just seventeen. In a short time, you made a positive impression on me. Now I try to follow in your small steps when it comes to being generous, showing kindness and of course smiling.

I’m a pretty good hugger too.

Miss you Mom.

Cheers to all the Great Moms, past,  present and in the future.

Jeff