Sunday is Mother’s Day—I’m sure I don’t need to remind you!
Mother’s Day reminds me of my own mother and the fact that it’s already 15 years ago that I gave her her last Mother’s Day card. She died about six weeks after Mother’s Day in 2006.
I still miss her, though signs of her are sprinkled throughout my life. I still wear a few clothes of hers that I rescued from her closet. Some of the art that she made adorns our walls and decorates our house at Christmas. Bells from her collection sit on my window ledge. And we have photos! On beginning to go through my photos a few weeks ago, I came across so many wonderful memories of things we did together—pictures of the birthday parties and family dinners we celebrated at our home and hers, camping trips on which she accompanied us, scenic walks we took around Abbotsford where she lived.
I also have a few photos of her when she was much younger. I love studying them and finding premonitions of the faces of my siblings, our children, nieces, and nephews. This week’s quote in my daily planner reminded me of one of them:
“I can’t quite see myself as a mother and I can’t quite see my own mother as anything else” – Courtney E. Martin.
Portrait of my mother at twenty
Silky blush-tint skin
against green-toned sepia,
thick hair pulled loosely back,
brown pompadour above
high smooth forehead
declares “I am woman.”
sweet and eager.
Lace collar frames her neck.
Behind 30s-fashionable rimless glasses
eyes large, dark, frank,
recall her words, “We were close pals.
She was my friend.”
They make me wonder,
If I had been her age
would she have smiled that way
and said those things about me?
– Violet Nesdoly © 2020 (All rights reserved)
On my cleanup a few weeks ago I found a stash of sympathy cards we received on Mom’s death. Many of them tell memories of her. This Mother’s Day, I’m going to reread all those cards and appreciate her again for all she was to those of us blessed to have her in our lives.