What moms do

There were only four of us Ackerman kids at the time. I was 8, maybe 9, so it was at least two years before my kid brother Bobby was born.
Every time I relive this little memory, and I relive it every Mother’s Day, I cannot imagine where my three siblings could have been that summer’s day. It was rare to find myself alone with my mom. But we were. And she made it special.
She sent me to the neighborhood store, just a few houses away, to buy a bottle of 7Up and a pint of vanilla ice cream. When I got back, she made us each an ice cream float. We drank them at the kitchen table.
I can still feel how bright the kitchen was, flooded with afternoon sun.
That treat probably cost 25 cents, ten for the soda and 15 for the ice cream.
It was not until decades later that I realized it may have been the last 25 cents she had in her purse that week. And that with our big family she had to pick her moments. Ice cream floats for the gang of us were most likely out of the question. But one-on-one?
That day it was my turn.
I do believe I love the memory of it even more than the experience itself.

Ed Ackerman