|Posted by Val Fox on May 11, 2012 at 12:35 AM|
I thought of you today when the heady, sweet fragrance of a peony arrived on the wind. Remember that was your favorite flower. Yours were a brilliant red, I recall. Spring was a time when we dug and planted, weeded and trimmed. Then, at the end of the day we’d sit on the porch and you’d hand spray everything ; my favorite was the smell of wet grass or freshly tilled soil mixed with your L’Aire du Tempes.
Photo: Creative Commons
Many things have changed in my life since we last spoke. I finished school and worked for Native Counselling Services, then the newspaper. Even made it to editor. But you know what, Mom? During the last two years of reporting I only had supper with your grandson four times. I guess that was the deciding factor, and I changed directions. Moved to the big city and worked with kids, can you believe it - Me – working with kids. Who’d have thought.
I recall those days when you taught small children, then special needs kids. You always had your hand in some kind of volunteer work or fundraising or church activities. And those special shopping trips we’d make at Christmas, remember? You’d always buy me something “useful and practical” like a winter coat or boots. Gee, I miss those days, when we could spend time together.
Our relationship was a tumultuous one, for sure. But in retrospect I know we both did our best, Mom. Your grandkids have grown into strong men and women; I even found two of R’s grown kids through Facebook. They are so beautiful. And you have great grandkids too – a boy and a girl. Their beautiful faces shine with joy in their photographs.
The old house still looks the same except it has a new front step and is painted a dusty green. Sometimes I wish I had the courage to ask the current owners if I could see inside. Then, I scrap the idea and opt for the reality that those times are but memories now, and you have left this earthly place. Instead, I carry with me all those things you taught me – how to get the most out of a dollar, how to match up outfits, how to cook chicken casserole and how to be a faithful and honest wife. I passed many of those teachings onto my own children and now they are passed further.
You are still very much with me, Mom. I hear your voice when I’m confused or doubtful. It comes to me from the animals or in a song. I hear it in the garden and again in my dreams. And on Sunday when we drive to the dam I will think of you walking there, collecting rocks and preparing potato salad. And I will remember all that you were and all that you still are, in my heart. Happy Mother’s Day, Mom. Always, and forever.
Photo byFearon-Wood Photography
Happy Mothers Day to all the mothers, caregivers and grandmothers who are honored today. Although today is set aside for you, every day is Mother's Day. Thanks for all you do.
Tags: mother, parenting, grandmother, grandma, mothering, nurturning, celebrate moms
Categories: A Writer's Journey