In addition to my melancholy disposition, or perhaps as part and parcel of it, my mom bequeathed to me an appreciation for the finer things—music above all. Undoubtedly her interest in my early musical training and her own musical nature sparked the creative flame within me. Singing songs with acoustic guitar and piano accompaniment is one of my many fond memories. Perhaps I'll write about my musical experiences at another time. Suffice to say for now, playing, composing and listening to music have provided some of the most joyous moments in my life, and I have my mother to thank.
I suspect her sense of humor likewise had an effect on me. When I was a teenager we'd love watching David Letterman and Steve Martin, and we've enjoyed employing our own caustic wit from time to time. Take from me dry humor and music and I'll probably give up the ghost not long thereafter. Like my mom, I think, I have found these two pastimes a source of great consolation, especially at times when life is bittersweet or disappointingly mundane.
I'm sure you've found yourself uttering phrases or exhibiting peculiar mannerisms around your children. I might use a nickname for one of my kids or make a comment in a strange intonation with them not realizing it stems from my childhood. Such is the influence of our mothers.
I'm not entirely sure what my mom wants out of life. That's okay, because I don't know myself. But whatever fears, aspirations, worries or sources of comfort I harbor in my heart, they didn't emerge ex nihilo. I'm my mother's son.