Last night Debbie W. and I dined on tacos and burritos and talked about our mothers. That seemed a natural thing to do since we were celebrating our birthdays, and these fine ladies brought us into the world. Debbie’s in the position of being able to care for and spend time with her mother, and she realizes her good fortune. Her words: “Not many people get to take care of their mothers, and I’m going to savor every minute of it for as long as I have her with me.”
As the seventh anniversary of my mother’s death approaches, I find myself thinking of her more as the years go by rather than less. Crazy, huh? I envy (but not in a resentful way) Debbie’s daily contact and conversation with her mother, and this morning I find myself thinking of what I’d say to Margie if she were here. I’d like to ask her what to wear to a wedding that I have to attend in three weeks, what she thinks about Paul’s lovely girlfriend, and how she likes my enormous sunflowers. And about that wedding, since she knows the mother of the bride, she’d remind me to say hello to “Little Ella,” her term of endearment for my friend.
More importantly, no one but my mother would appreciate the delightful beings that my children have become. She and my father both had “their finger on the pulse” in that they knew my children’s strengths, attributes, shortcomings, dispositions, traits, and abilities, and we were able to chat about any and everything related to them. This, incidentally, was true of all of her grandchildren, for she loved them all.
With Braden, her great grandson, beginning four-year preschool this week, I’d LOVE to talk to Mama about his being such a big boy and about his mother Carrie. She was once just a little preschooler herself, and my mother would not only remember that, but she would also listen to me prattle about it and then add her own memories. A phrase she often used was “get a charge,” and I know she’d “get a charge” out of Brooke’s fireball personality and her desire to go to school with Braden. And Emma? She’d melt Mama’s heart just the way Carrie did 32 years ago.
What a gal! And how fortunate I am to have had such a mother.