Mother’s Day 2015
Another Mother’s Day...It happens to fall on my 61st birthday this year. I have shared my day with Mother’s day many a time before, so this is no different.
The big difference is ... I am OLD....I can remember thinking anyone in their 60’s ought to be put in a home or taken out back and put out of their misery...Of course now, I would like to just stay home and take a nap...that’s all....not in need of much else...or maybe some chocolate or a nice round of golf would be nice.
Can’t ever remember wanting to be anything but a Mother. It seemed like such a worthy calling, and I had and still do, have a Mother who is worthy of the name. She taught me how to iron, cook, clean house, do the dishes, and cook a mean meat loaf. I was Texas born & raised and brought up to respect my elders. Was raised going to church when the doors were opened, and our road trips consisted of singing old hymns in the car going to Mama and Papa’s. Daddy didn’t like to stop, so we learned how to go in a mayonaise jar while driving down the highway...An art not learned by many. We played “white horse” to keep us entertained and Glenda and I fought over the “hump” and who was going to sit there...I usually won! Seat belts were not around then, so we had free reign. Amazed we are alive to tell about it.
Mother would play the “comb & tissue paper” to accompany our singing and make teeth out of watermelon rinds. She was the milk & cookies kind of Mom and an excellent cook. She wore dresses for the most part and always had on RED lipstick. To this day, she still does.
And as the good book says....”Her children rise up and call her blessed” I am a better woman, wife, and mother because of her. And as much as most of us try to not become our mothers, we do anyway! We can’t help it. I open my mouth and her words come out. How does that happen? I have stopped trying to fight it, and just let it be.
So, with milk glass raised, I toast to you, Mother....May your bread always rise, your kitchen smell like something roasting in the oven, & your lips red as can be. If I could be half of the mother that you have been to me, I would have lived a full life!
Love my mama!
