memories · Monday · Uncategorized

Monday, thinking about Ma…

I think of my mother at some point most days.  There are three days a year that I especially think of her;  May 1, the day she was born in 1917, Mother’s Day, February 21, the day she died 30 years ago.
 
She was a complicated woman.  A bit of a snob, easily hurt and never forgot the hurt, angry a lot of the time and her anger was not a pretty thing, definitely something to be avoided. She was superstitious, and very funny.  She didn’t know she was funny and would not think it a compliment to be told she was.  But, in fact she was truly funny.
 
She had quirky little superstitious habits that were taken very seriously and silly sayings that were meant as words of wisdom.
 

She would complain that the doctor gave her the  wrong prescription for glasses, then unknowingly wear my brother’s glasses all day.

One time she had a Perry Como record on the stereo and was happily dusting while listening to it.  The stereo was on the wrong speed and Perry sounded like Alvin and the Chipmunks. She never realized this and was quite surprised when it was pointed out.

She occasionally used deodorant as hairspray and never was the wiser.  We knew because her hair smelled liked Daddy’s Right Guard.

For all her strange ways and faults and funniness one thing about my mother that I will always remember and be grateful for is her unconditional love for my brothers and me.  There is no doubt she loved us.  Nobody would get away with messing with her kids if she had anything to say about it. 

I always knew that no matter what I did, no matter how ugly or bad, she would still love me and stand by me.  Oh, when I did wrong I had to pay the consequences, but I knew she would be there with me, she would never abandon me.  She taught me what unconditional love is like in this world. 

On her birthday I buy flowers.  Just a small bouquet that I put on my table.  They make me smile and would make her happy if she saw them.  On Mother’s Day no flowers, just thoughts of her.  And on this day, the anniversary of her death, I just miss her.

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2 thoughts on “Monday, thinking about Ma…

  1. I miss my mother, too. She died more than 30 years ago, and I was only 27, too young to lose my mother, I thought. She was only 46.

    Some of the cute little mix-ups your mother made sound very much like she may have had Alzheimer’s. I’m not sure it was recognized much back then, but these are the kinds of confusions that go unnoticed by a person plagued by Alzheimer’s. Of course, the superstitions came from her ancestors. My grandmother used to get upset if I allowed a rocking chair to continue rocking when I got out of it. That was a sure sign someone was going to die. Ha! Someone somewhere always did, of course. We are all terminal. Funny. Your mom sounds like my grandmother. She would swear we were right when we were wrong, because she loved us, and that was all that counted. I miss my mother and my grandmother very much. Blessings to you, Patricia…

    1. I am not sure about the Alzheimer’s–I think she was just a bit eccentric and maybe a little “off”.
      The superstitions could get confusing trying to keep track of them all!
      Your mother was very young when she died—sorry for your loss, I know it hurt.

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