Co-conspirator.
I have lots of stories about my Mom.
Favourite stories.
And in my mind, the woman at the center of each of them is still vibrantly alive and busy.
If I walk into the next room, I will hear her tell me, "I'm going to stop buying that peanut butter. You kids just eat it!"
Or if I open the fridge, "What's wrong with that milk?! There's nothing wrong with that milk! It tastes just fine!"
Or better yet, "Don't eat that! It's for Christmas!"
When I look out the window, she'll be out there in the garden, hoeing or harvesting. Hauling around her paint sprayer to put on just 'one more coat'. Sprinting to the top of a corral fence because some bull objected to her presence there.
Hauling feed to cattle, pigs, chickens and dogs.
Turning around, I'll see her seated at the kitchen table, writing a short story or poem. Or occasionally snatching a few minutes to read an article in the Reader's Digest.
Or studying the scriptures and preparing Sunday School lessons.
I can see her cooking and baking endlessly in her scrupulously clean kitchen as she prepares feasts for an endless stream of children and hired men.
Or straining the socially acceptable language barriers as she copes with a recalcitrant sewing machine while making yet another article of clothing for one of her six children.
'Accidentally' ringing the ranch bell.
Hitting a home run to the delight of some and the dismay of others.
I can see her skating across the ice, spinning and dipping and coming to a breathless halt.
Kissing countless booboos and rescuing heedless children from hair-raising escapades.
Taking smiles and meals to someone who needs exactly those things. In that order.
Knitting and crocheting for everyone except herself.
In fact, spending every moment of every day in service to others.
And happy to do it.
All I have to do is turn around - or pick up the phone - and she'll be there.
Then reality pays a short visit.
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| My brother, brushing. |
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| Brother and Sister-in-Law, trimming and sweeping. |
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| Scrubbing. |
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| All dressed. |
She's there.
In my mind.
Busy. Happy. Healthy.
Someday, I'll see her again. Someday.
I miss you, Mom.
Happy Mother's Day!
happy mothers day to all our moms......here or waiting for us in the hereafter.....tears in our eyes today as we remember our moms
ReplyDeleteSuch special memories . . .
DeleteYou really were a lucky gal, weren't you?
ReplyDeleteAnd your kids and grandkids are lucky, too.
Happy Mother's Day, Diane!
The luckiest, Jenny! At least I think so! :)
DeleteI loved your mom! I didn't know her til all you kids were gone; but she was a wonderful "grandmother" to us all in our Innisfail ward. Wonderful tribute to her, thanks!
ReplyDeleteI'm so glad you were able to know her, Sister Jackie! She loved 'grandmothering'!
DeleteI have absolutely no doubt that your mom was an amazing woman...just look at her daughter and you can see that plainly! Happy Mother's Day dear friend!
ReplyDeleteYou are so sweet! Thank you!
DeleteOkay, Mom, I think it's time you spoke to someone about this...
ReplyDeleteSeriously, though, I can totally see what you mean!
Happy Mum's Day to a lady who means so much to me, there are literally no words that even begin to describe her!
Love you Mom!
You've made my day, Sweetheart! Love you, too!
DeleteOne of the most beautiful tributes I've read. Getting older doesn't bother me - but losing those who are important to us is so hard. Happy Mother's Day, Diane!
ReplyDeleteThank you so much, Lana! You're so right. The getting older is merely inconvenient. The saying goodbye is hard!
DeleteGood heavens! Did your mum never sleep??
ReplyDeleteI can read your love for her in every word and I'm sure she knew how much you loved her.
I really don't think she did, River. :) She was the very best Mom. I love her forever!
DeleteThanks for posting this, Diane. It's always a special treat going out on Mother's Day to visit with Mom. It's even better having you there as well.
ReplyDelete