As we inch closer to Mother's Day, I simply cannot let it pass without paying homage to my dear mother. This week marked the second anniversary of her burial and, in a way, it seems like it's flown by but in a way it seems like she's been gone forever. It feels like a very long time since I've been able to pick up the phone and call her to tell her the latest news or just to hear her voice. You know how sometimes you just wanna hear your mother's voice? I think that's what I miss the most.
For my entire life, I can't remember one single time when my mother was not available to me. If she was well, in town (before cell phones), and not completely incapacitated for whatever reason, she was there to answer my questions, listen to my hardships, and rejoice with me when I was the bearer of good news. Even when she was terribly sick with cancer and had just weeks to live, she would always take my calls. I remember not only her concern for everything having to do with my life but mostly her absolute joy whenever I had something exciting happen. She was thrilled for the good things that came into her family's lives, as if it were her own happiness. And I believe it was; she loved us that much. She was always ready to give her opinion and her advice when needed and wanted (and sometimes when needed but maybe not wanted, haha) and her advice was always sound and logical and rooted in her great faith. My mama wore her heart on her sleeve. She was not one who could cover up her sadness, her hurt feelings, or her anger. She also was one who could not cover up her incredible love for her family and her pride in all their accomplishments and achievements, and that great love was reflected in everything she did. She loved like no other person I've ever known.
My mother was not perfect. She bore the scars of a hard life before she met my daddy and he whisked her away, a teenage bride, to freedom from an alcoholic father and a mother who loved her but simply had more children than she knew what to do with (11 in all). But my grandmother was a God-fearing woman and she too loved her children. I guess my mom learned how to love from her mother as I learned how to love from her. Mama's love was committed love; once you had her love, she never let you go. But mama had her faults. She could show her bad side when she got angry sometimes but I don't hold that against her. She was a passionate woman and you don't tell passionate women to settle down or remain calm, just ask my husband. He's been trying to model anger without extreme emotions to me for 36 years, and I still don't seem to get it. As she got older, she lost pretty much every bit of her filter, if she ever really had one. She might say the most outlandish things, but nothing she ever said or did overshadowed the love she had for her family. All else was forgiven and her great love reigned supreme over any and all weaknesses. She indeed was the reigning queen of love.
This Mother's Day will not be any easier than last Mother's Day or the Mother's Day before or any Mother's Day in the future when it comes to missing my mom. I miss her every single day and it still gets to me when something happens, good or bad, and I want to pick up the phone and call her but I know that I can't. I am so very thankful for pictures and videos because I don't have to worry about forgetting what she looked like or her voice. But the funny thing is that it's not Mother's Day or her birthday or the holidays or the day she died as much as it is the small things that pop up, reminding me of the mother who loved me so. It might be a song on the radio or something she gave me that I come across or eating one of her favorite foods or even something as silly as a store or restaurant we went to together that stirs a memory and, in a New York minute, the tears can be rolling down my cheeks.
One day I will grow very old if I have the blessing of a long life. We never know what will take us out of this ol' world, if it will be sickness or an accident or just old age in our sleep. I hope I can always hang on to the memories I have of my mother because I have so many they could fill the Grand Canyon, and to lose them would be a great tragedy. Like the touch of her soft powdery cheek when I kissed it. Like her radiant smile every time she saw me. Her hardworking hands lined with all the years of her faithfulness. The way she smelled when she was dressed up and had on her favorite fragrance. If I grow old one day and my mind and my memory fail me, I may not have recall of the things my mother did or said or even how she looked or smelled. But I will never, ever forget her love for it is burrowed deep down within my soul. It lingers there never to be touched or removed by any force of nature. Her love molded me as a child, taught me how to breathe deeply and return love as I grew, and it covered a multitude of mistakes and falsehoods and heartbreaks I've suffered in my life. Like a lighthouse standing strong on a battered shore, it guided me and helped make me the person I am today. It still fuels so many of the things I do and influences me in ways I could never explain.
And it's impossible to forget a love like that.
"The business of being a mother is the most important business of any woman who has children... for it's in a mother's influence that lives are molded, guided, and affected forever."
Posted by CC
I love to write; you love to read...let's share!