The other day I woke up with a bruise on my upper leg. Actually two bruises less than an inch apart. And then for the better part of the morning I panicked. Which may sound odd to panic over a couple of little bruises. But let me explain before you label me a hypochondriac.
Continue readingmom
Happy Birthday
This is a fairly simple premise –
when a girl has a good mom
and that good mom is now gone
it is as simple as this:
her mom she will always miss.
Continue readingWhen the song comes back to me again
I’m not sure how it happened. But somehow, somewhere I became reacquainted with an old Garth Brooks’ song. Sometimes when I connect with a song I play it. A lot. I wouldn’t say in an obsessive way. Just a lot, a lot. That’s what happened with this song. It spoke to me and so I had to listen over and over. I think everyone should know about this song so I’m going to share my thoughts here. Because that’s how I roll. It’s a good song though so I’m sure you won’t mind reading my take on “When You Come Back to Me Again” (Yates & Brooks, 2000).
Continue readingLessons learned from mom
Let me tell you a little bit about my mom. She had a strong personality and felt a deep sense of wrong and right. Her joy was her family and was strongly protective of her little clan. If you fell under mom’s umbrella she was your fan. I’m not claiming she was perfect but she did her best to give her best for her family. Here are a just a few of the things I was fortunate to be taught by mom. Continue reading
Four Angels Divided
My mom was an artist. As an artist, she found many outlets for her creativity. One outlet was painting ceramics. Her dad and stepmother owned a ceramic shop and she helped out. Along the way, her family were beneficiaries of ceramic projects big and small. I remember her painting four angel ornaments for the tree. One boy and three girls, or in other words, one for my brother and one for my sisters and me.
For years the angels hung on her Christmas tree every year. Her little angels painted with love by our guardian angel.
Every year for thirty some years her angels hung on momma’s tree.
But all things come to an end. This Christmas, the angels were divided and each hung on different trees in two states and three towns. Mom’s angels are separated by distance but still connected by memory and love.
In Mom’s Steps
“Am I like grandma?” I used to ask my mom ad nauseam. “Tell me about grandma.” My grandma T died before any of her grandchildren were born and I missed having a grandma. Without any consideration for my mom having to bring up memories about her beloved mother I used to beg her to tell me about grandma T. In my defense, I didn’t understand and couldn’t comprehend how sometimes talking about the deceased can be a painful experience. That was a lesson I could only learn by unfortunate experience. So when I was young, I pleaded for information about this absent woman whose blood ran through my veins. I guess I yearn for connections and I needed to know if grandma would have liked her granddaughter. In a way, I am still searching for connections. Continue reading
Step by Step
I can imagine her
walking with friends to school.
Her tiny legs carried her
while obedience was her fuel. Continue reading
Sweet dreams
Occasionally I dream of my mom. I can no longer see her face but I can feel her presence. I simply know it’s her. Lately, when mom does come to visit in a dream it’s with the “she’s not really gone. She didn’t die. She was not as sick as we thought,” theme. I get this hope inside me. You know, like the hope Rafiki gives to Simba about Mufasa. Simba chases after the aged simian and the audience thinks, “Oh, I hope Mufasa is really alive!”
I wake up as disappointed as Simba when he looks at his reflection in the pool of water. Mom is gone.
When she does make an appearance in my dreams she usually talks to the family. Or helps us out. We tend to keep her pretty busy. Some things never change.
I experienced a rather stressful weekend last week. Not bad stress just busy stress. I kept busy from quitting time on Friday to Sunday afternoon. At times, I felt overwhelmed. Sometimes inadequate. I questioned if I am really cut out to do the job asked of me. Thankfully, I was so busy I didn’t have much time to devote to self-doubt.
By the time Sunday afternoon rolled around I felt exhausted. I gave my best and prayed it was good enough. That night I had a momma-dream. This time we just hugged. It was a long embrace that lasted until I woke up.
It was enough.
I received the strength I needed to face my week. Yeah, I got this.
I’m not superstitious…much
She looked at me with wide eyes and an air of expectancy. Normally, I would have agreed with her. In fact, I had waited for over 20 years for an opportunity such as this. But I couldn’t do it. I could not side with my sister-in-law.
“RH,” my sister-in-law, CC, reiterated in case I didn’t hear her the first time, “will not flip a calendar early.”
Yeah, so?
She wanted me to join forces with her in an effort to mock my brother. Of course she thought I would be an ally in her cause since I have led many efforts to mock my older brother ever since…well, forever. It’s a little sister’s prerogative and responsibility and I always take my job seriously. At least, this one. Otherwise an older brother’s ego gets too huge and becomes too unbearable to even associate with. It’s all in the Little Sister’s Handbook for Survival. I can send you a copy if you’d like.
Happy Birthday, Momma!
Today would be my mom’s 71st birthday. You may be aware we lost mom last December 2nd. If you have followed my blog at all the past year, you may have seen numerous posts on grief (see the Sad Days Tab under categories) as I worked through my mourning period. This particular post is not like those. This post will be a reflection of what I learned from one good momma. It’s a celebration of good memories of a good life.
ck's days 