For most of my growing up years, it was just my mom and me. Dad was a lifer in the Navy and had a rate that was ship-board, meaning the job had to be done on board a ship. So when he wasn’t on a cruise for months at a time, he was on what they called shake-down cruises, testing the ship for longer cruises. All told, he was probably gone for nine months of every year between one thing and another.<\/p>\n
For all of that time, and even while he was home, my mom was my best friend, the person I told everything, my companion for early evening TV, game after game of Yahtzee, Gin Rummy, or Scrabble, and many, many hours of quiet reading. With the exception of two years in California, she worked my whole life. Back then, the Navy didn’t pay much so she pitched in with working wherever we were stationed. I never resented her working or the chores that meant I had to do. I saw it as being my family responsibility.<\/p>\n
![\"Massage](\"https:\/\/i0.wp.com\/www.nomadauthors.com\/blog\/wp-content\/uploads\/2018\/05\/Depositphotos_19719225_s-2015_Massage.jpg?resize=195%2C130&ssl=1\")
So, after hubby and I tied the knot and we had worked long enough to give back a little, I wanted to get Mom a special Christmas gift I knew she would never get herself. I called Elizabeth Arden’s Red Door Spa in Dallas (since closed) and arranged for a day’s treat for my mother. I was giddy with excitement! She would have her hair cut, a facial, a full-body massage and time in the sauna. She would be petted and pampered. At the time it felt ridiculously expensive–$150!!<\/p>\n
![\"Spa](\"https:\/\/i0.wp.com\/www.nomadauthors.com\/blog\/wp-content\/uploads\/2018\/05\/Depositphotos_6704594_s-2015_Bathsalts.jpg?resize=216%2C144&ssl=1\")
So Christmas morning I called my aunt’s house in Dallas. The day in Virginia had calmed down but their house was chaotic with cousins, second cousins, and my grandmother. Mom described her new nightgown in detail, told me all about a new Johnny Cash record, spoke at length about her new set of boots, and oh, yes, “Thank you, sweetie, for the spa trip.” That was it. How could I be so excited and she be so blas\u00e9?<\/p>\n
So we chatted a bit longer and hung up. About eight hours later, she called back, raving about the spa gift. ![\"Aromatherapy](\"https:\/\/i0.wp.com\/www.nomadauthors.com\/blog\/wp-content\/uploads\/2018\/05\/Depositphotos_9456308_s-2015_Relaxation.jpg?resize=183%2C183&ssl=1\")
She said in all the excitement she hadn’t taken the time to read what the gift entailed. At last I was able to smile, knowing I had given her something she would never buy for herself but which she would enjoy. It wasn’t a gift that lasted years, but it was a special moment in time, and isn’t that what makes great memories?<\/p>\n
Read the next blog in the blog hop by going here<\/a>.<\/p>\n Dee<\/a>
\nNaval Maneuvers<\/a> When a woman requires an earth-shattering crush of pleasure to carry her away, she can’t do better than to call on the US Navy. Sorry, Marines!<\/p>\n","protected":false},"excerpt":{"rendered":"