Remembering My Mother
This is a picture of my mother, Phyllis, in the 1940s. Cute wasn’t she? When I see pictures like this…ones before my time, I can’t help but wonder what she was like back then. What aspirations did she have for her life at that age? How did she imagine her life turning out? Henry David Thoreau said, most men lead lives of quiet desperation and go to the grave with the song still in them. I assume that includes women. It’s a sad thought and one I have often pondered. I hope my mother who lived to be 83 got to at least chirp a few notes of her song. I certainly plan to perform an entire one woman musical production before I check out…if I check out at all. I’m still debating if I want to die or just wait for Jesus and roll on up with Him…grin. Either way I intend to sing my song loud and pretty. I’m not too crazy about that quiet desperation living bit either. Don’t think I want to participate in that.
Mothers Day is a sad occassion for me since my mother passed in 2001. My memories are many and when I get to missing her too much I pull them out in my mind to salve my grief. I was blessed to have a mother like Phyllis. Let me preface my reminisces saying she was not perfect. No parent is and no parent gets it all right all the time. Parents are humans with flaws and weaknesses like anyone else. That said I still consider myself blessed to have been her daughter She was a breed of mother you see little of these days. I used to think she was too fussy and old fashioned and in many ways she was. Now I cherish those very qualities and miss them fiercely. Plus I find myself behaving fussy and old school nowadays.Most of my life I was told I looked like my father and acted like him too. The older I get the more Phyllis seeps out in my appearance and personality. It’s genetic verification I suppose but it also helps me feel still connected to my mom. It’s a good thing.
I had a good mother, a dedicated mother and homemaker. She was sacrificial in her love of me and my sister. She embodied what motherhood should be about in my opinion. I know you think I’m biased and I am. I’m also very realistic about who she was and her short comings. Still, she was always there for me. I know she did the best she knew how and she loved me. That in itself makes my eyes water with emotion when I think about it. I don’t think I was as good a dughter as she was a mother to be honest. I was too me-centric and she was always about her family first. I thank the Lord I at least had enough sense to take my cues from her example as I became an adult and dropped the me all the time thing. As I got older I began to appreciate her, both my parents actually, more and more and I hope I showed them just how much they meant to me. I valued their sacrifice, hard work and love while raising me with a greater appreciation as the years rolled by. The month of May makes us all think about the mothers we had…or didn’t have. Fortunately I’m in the had group. Praise the Lord, I had a great mother!!