See you later, Alligator.

I don't quite remember what grade I was in, but it was likely grade five or six. I was walking to school and I was already rummaging in my brown-paper lunch bag. As I crossed the gravel soccer field, I pulled two pieces of paper out of the bag. I could see that they were both handwritten notes from my Mom. 


My Mom was born on February 2nd, 1943. When she was in school, penmanship was still called penmanship and it was darned important. This is not the case today and as a result, we all have horrible handwriting. I mean penmanship. Not so in the case of my Mom; her penmanship is lovely.


As I read the notes from my lunch bag, I realized one was for my teacher and one was for me. The one for my teacher excused me from class after lunch that day. I started to get excited. The note for me explained that my Mom and I were going to take the bus into Vancouver to go see a movie and have supper. My Mom and I used to go to a lot of matinees, but this was the first time I'd ever been excused from school to go to the movies. 


Now I was really excited and I could tell by the way she wrote the note that she was excited too. And then she made me laugh by writing, "See you later, Alligator! In awhile, Crocodile!" She also included two more lines, but I can't quite remember what they were. It was something like, "In a shake, Mr. Snake! See you there, Little Bear!" It doesn't really matter, it only matters that I've never forgotten how great that note made me feel.


I went to school with lots of kids whose parents would never have taken them out of school for an afternoon movie. I turned out to be a notorious class-skipper in high school, but I don't attribute that to my Mom at all; I would have skipped classes regardless. No, what my Mom did that day only showed me how much she loved me and how much she loved spending time with me. 


Looking back, I wonder if she did these little things because she knew that soon I would be a teenager and I would stop wanting to hang out with her. I also take into account that I was her only daughter and she wanted to do things with me that she wouldn't or couldn't do with my brothers. Things like going to see girly movies (now known as chick flicks), for example.


All I now is that thanks to my Mom, I love going to matinees. And with my help, I hope my kids will too. Happy Birthday, Mom. I love you.

One of my favourite pics of my Mom, when she was around two-years old.