|queen of taco tuesday. her grace. (prattl) wrote,|
@ 2016-12-31 11:15:00
|Current mood:||happyish to be home.|
|Current music:||heys from hawaii|
tell me about your mother?
|19 likes||2 comments|
My mother, Victoria Pratt, was a beautiful, charismatic, hard working woman. She sustained a small business for over twenty years in the heart of SoHo. She raised six children with varying degrees of success, no one incarcerated for too terribly long, and with minimal to moderate emotional damage. She battled cancer for the most formidable years of my childhood. A strong woman made weak but still she prevailed. For years she remained in remission. Healthy and strong. When the cancer did finally come back she kept the news to herself for a long time. Until there was hope no longer.
This is the last picture taken of me with my mother. She looks happy and in some ways, I'm not sure I had seen her happier. The Pratt Pack was out in full force the night of my youngest brother's wedding. My older brother, Bobby, and his two daughters were there. My brother Adam and his daughter, Violet. My sisters. My father. It was the first time in years that all of us were under the same roof. It was Lucas' wedding, nobody fought. It was probably the most pleasant familial experience of my entire life.
It was a few weeks later when she passed. It felt like no time at all. I felt guilty for a long time for all of the things I never got to say. For all of the things I never got to do. I tried to honor her memory and do what I thought would make her proud by taking up the mantle of the shop she put so much work into. A shop that I had been jealous of as a child. A shop that I had often felt she loved so much more than she did me. It was an obsession that consumed me, to make it work, to gain some sort of absolution for being a waste of a daughter.
The satisfaction that I felt from working at The Perfect Petal did not come because I was happy there. It came because I was able to prove to myself that I could do it - that I was capable. The Perfect Petal did not make me happy but knowing that I could push myself, physically and educationally, and succeed gave me a rush that I've wanted to feel in everything that I do since. When I felt it was time to step down, I did. I handed the reigns to my older sister. She tried, I know. In a struggling economy where flowers can be ordered from your phone for a lot less expensive, it's hard. I locked the doors for the last time today as the last of the equipment and personal things were carried out of the building.
Adding to the list of things 2016 has taken from us: The Perfect Petal.
I'm sorry, Mom.