Another Mother’s Day has rolled around, reminding me once again of how blessed Will and I were by you. Thank you for giving us a wonderful childhood. You and Daddy were the best parents ever.
I can’t believe how long it’s been since we lived together in our cute little house on Pear Street. (I still want to call it 7th Street like it was when we moved there. Seems so much more sensible for someone trying to navigate our town.)
You taught us to love our family by welcoming their visits. Driving to Little Rock for lunch with Aunt Mary and Uncle Zack on Sundays after church taught me that sometimes you have to make an extra effort to stay close. (Thank you for taking us to church first.)
You always welcomed our friends inside. (I’m sorry about Grandma’s bluebird vase the boys broke. Even then, I understood it meant so much to you, not because of its cost, but because it had belonged to your mother. But I get it even more now. I love to wear your costume jewelry. Your bright beads still bring lots of compliments.
You sure fed us well and never seemed to mind taking special requests. Thank you for letting me eat a leftover hamburger or tuna sandwich for breakfast and even making the tuna two ways because Will liked his plain while you and I went for pickles and eggs in ours. You even spoiled Minnie by buying her hamburger meat. (No wonder she was such a plump little pup.)
I loved sitting on the counter while you mixed up batter for my heart-shaped birthday cakes. (Anytime you baked, you left enough batter for us get our fill when we scraped the bowl or gave us a bite of cookie dough.)
You and Daddy made simple outings great fun. I remember picnics at Bee Rock and Gum Springs, swimming at Echo Dell, not to mention holidays like the Fourth of July. I can still see Daddy holding a Roman candle out to the side and hearing that pop with each burst of light while you hollered, “Wilbur, be careful.”
How did you manage to find everything on our Christmas lists year after year? No wonder sometimes you woke up with a migraine on Christmas morning. Looking back, I realize you were a super shopper, especially of sale things.
Thank you for making me help with housework, ironing and cooking. (Although, I hated that ironing, it all helped when it was time to manage my own home.)
I wish we could spend this Sunday together, but since we can’t, I’m reminding myself that you’re young and strong now, celebrating with Grandma, Will, Daddy and all those who’ve gone on ahead of me. One of these days, I’ll see you again, and we’ll reminisce. Until then, remember that I love and miss you.
Your grateful daughter,
Copyright © Reflections from Dorothy’s Ridge 2016. All rights reserved.