I know… it’s a Hallmark holiday, and I've already posted a wonderful piece someone else wrote about what I really want from my family...a bit more of their time, which I understand is the most precious commodity any of them possess.
I can remember being at their stages of life with children and husband and community and church all pulling at me. I possess a box with a number of letters I wrote to my mother through the years, and most of them begin with an apology for not writing more often...not visiting more often. I think the ones to my grandmother do too.
They always seemed to understand and never scolded, and truthfully, when I did descend on them with my brood of children, I think they heaved a huge sigh of relief that we didn't do it more often. What they probably would have treasured was more of my undivided attention...something I only gave my mother for a few precious days and hours in the final months of her life. I think the source of all my grief was realizing then that those days would be gone, never to be reclaimed and that no notes of apology would make up for them. So I made her custard that she had no taste for and curled up the hideous blue recliner in her den and rocked myself after she went to sleep.
The late afternoons when I'm waiting for one of my ubiquitous casseroles to cook are when I miss her most. I would often pick up the phone just to check in, mostly because she was the one person in the world I knew would always be thrilled to hear my voice. I knew it then, but I know it more now when the phone rings and it's one of my girls.
The gardenias she loved so much are beginning to bloom, and today I went out to see if I could find a few..I did, exactly three. She sent one for me, my siser, and brother...to let us know that she still loves us on this Mother's Day. If she were around, she's put on a suit and low heeled shoes and hose and go to church with a white rose pinned to her chest in memory of Mamo and expect us to do the same with a pink or red one to honor her. Some of us will go to church, but not likely with the rose on our shoulder, but more likely with a gardenia in our hearts.
We miss you Mama.