Like Mother, Like Daughter

A personal essay by Nina Anderson

For as long as I can remember, I have wanted to be exactly like my mom.

It was 6pm, closing time. It was already dark because that’s how life goes when it’s winter in Minnesota. Donna had left for the day so I needed to lock up the shop. I looked out the front window and saw Mom waiting in the Ford Focus. Right on time. I slipped on my coat, hat, gloves, scarf, and flicked off all the light switches. Mom crochets these beautiful mittens and matching scarves out of wool that keep us nice and warm.

The bells twinkled against the door as it shut behind me. The lock on the door requires some practice and often the patience of Job. The key is really small, so I had to expose my hands to the frigid air for a minute. You have to turn they key quickly and hold the door in exactly the right spot for the bolt to slide into place. 

I got my first job at Toni’s Flowers when I was 15 years old. It’s a small business located a few blocks from our home. Dad has gone there for years to get peach roses for Mom on their anniversary. When we got home, the warmth of the house would immediately thaw my face. More than that, the safety and happiness I always found there would sweep over me. This was the best part of a full day of work. 

Mom would hug me close and inhale deeply. “You smell like flowers,” she would murmur as her hold tightened and she held me for a few seconds longer than usual. Sometimes she would hug me twice. My feet ached most days and some days I was covered in glitter or spray paint or both. After I arrived, it was time to eat. I was always hungry. I had made it through my growth spurt (6” in one year) and was now the same height as Mom so I didn’t want to grow any taller. But, judging by my insatiable appetite, there were a few more inches to grow.

Work History

Mom’s first job was working in the bean fields with the Mexican laborers. She walked the rows of plants with a machete which she used to cut down the weeds that were too big for her to pull out. She later worked in a dairy where she could carry four gallons of milk in each hand. She was also the fastest drive through employee at a McDonald’s. She still has the plaque they gave her. Mom has had many jobs, but she was born to be a mom. She is soft and affectionate, but stronger than any other woman I have met. When she was a young mother, she always had her nails painted a deep red color. Later, she went back to work as a lunch lady and the harsh detergents roughened her hands; her nails were kept short and bare. This year she got a new job in an office and her nails have been purple, hot pink, and red again. 

I worked at Toni’s for almost four years before I moved away to go to university. I didn’t have a scholarship yet but was able to pay for my whole first year on my own and got the grades needed for a scholarship. Next I worked at Chic-fil-A for the summer where I was the fastest lemon juicer in the store. My sophomore year I had an early morning custodial job at 4:30 every morning before my classes. It was a lonely time because my schedule was so different from my friends. That year was when I got so stressed I got a weird skin condition and lost my fingerprints. That’s when Mom was a lunch lady so we both searched for ways to heal our hands. The next summer I worked for the city parks department where I was the only female employee. That job was my favorite because I got to be outside every day. The manual labor tightened my muscles and calloused my hands. The next year, I got my job in the library on campus where I had always wanted to work. I’ve been painting my nails again too.

As a child, I remember wanting to be exactly like my mom. I wanted to look like her, smell like her, work hard like her, and love like she does. It has been sad to realize that I am a different person. Still, there are some things I can do. I can keep putting in a hard days work and come home at the end of the day.