I was speaking to my daughter Angie today and it happened.
My Mother popped right out of my mouth.
OMG…I thought. Trying hard not to giggle.
Mama is in heaven now but I felt her presence so strong I almost
turned around to look for her. Mama was the strongest person I know.
She was a survivor. A survivor of hard times, poverty and bad marriages.
“Made up entirely of flaws but stitched together with good intentions.” Augusten Burroughs.”
That was Mama.
Mama could be distant though. Like an enticing fruit on a limb just out of
She could draw you in with her rich laughter or a well spun story but she
never let you get too close.
I am sure it was a product of her raising. My Grandmother was this way.
Instead of hugs Mama would spend long hours in her garden. I felt like she
took more pride in her garden than she did her kids sometimes. I was
determined that I was going to be a different type of Mother.
A nurturing Mother that gave hugs and
kisses for no reason. That helped with homework and gave a listening ear.
I was not going to be like her.
But I am like her.
I love to read. I love music. I love to write, art, nature and photography.
I correct bad grammar. I love makeup
and perfume. I love a good meal and I laugh loud. I like to tell stories to
anyone who will listen. I like pretty things
and when I least expect it I say something that Mama once said to me.
Mama didn’t have much materially in her life but she bequeathed to her
children somethings of greater value than money. Mama left us her “pearls
Thanks for these gifts, Mama.
I will try to pay them forward.