Ed. note: I am about to throw this fancy dancy computer into the river. I CANNOT figure out what is up with font size or paragraph spacing. I get it to look great, then publish the post and voila it is all screwed up.
"I know of no more permanent imprint on a life than the one made by mothers. I guess that’s why Mother’s Day always leaves me a little nostalgic. Not simply because my mother has gone on (and heaven’s probably cleaner because of it!), but because that’s the one day the real heroines of our world get the credit they deserve. Hats off to every one of you!"
As I write this, I'm singing, "I'm late, I'm late" like the White Rabbit in Alice in Wonderland. It is a theme that winds itself in and through my life. When leaving the house for most any reason, Sweetie has learned to wait patiently. Even after I've told him I'm ready, there's usually one more thing I have to get. Does it come as any surprise one that the man I love likes to get wherever he's going at least 15 minutes, if not 30, early? My mother used to tell me I'd be late for my own funeral.
So here I am, at 5 pm on the day after Mother's day, attempting to post my tribute to mothers before my father's big birthday bash. I should be showering but here I sit! In my defense, there was a lot going on yesterday. My sisters were arriving from the west coast. Isn't it some kind of law of physics that when the number of people in the house multiplies the number of hours in the day decreases? There was church, lunch, shopping for Dad's birthday dinner, rushing through Home Depot and PetSmart, dinner, the finale of The Amazing Race, and putting Dad to bed. Good golly, I'm tired just thinking about it all. I got some of the pictures scanned but didn't get anything written.
I've been on the run all day, but I'm going to try to get this done. There is so much that has already been written about mothers - in general and in particular. I wonder, what can I do to add my two cents? We all have memories good and bad of our mothers. Still, as Swindoll says:
"More than any statesman or teacher, more than any minister or physician, more than any film star, athlete, business person, author, scientist, civic leader, entertainer, or military hero . . . you are the most influential person in your child’s life." In other words, mom's rock.
My mom has been gone for seven years. I still have trouble realizing it has been that long. Some days I think I can see her sitting on the desk stool across the room from me, eyes tuned to The Price is Right. And when the back door mysteriously opens, I suspect it is mom reminding me that there is clean laundry in the dryer that needs to be folded. Really, it's only her memory that lingers. I worry that it will begin to fade to.
I come from a long line of women on both sides of my family. Moms of all ages. I don't know exactly how genetics works but there is a little piece of each of these women in me, or maybe some of me in them. We are all different, yet still the same at least on a molecular basis. And even when we're not related, I still believe that when mothers say thank you for a child born, or weep for a child lost anywhere in the world, each of us knows how it feels. It could be an estrogen thing, but I think, after all is said and done, it's a heart thing. When a woman becomes a mom, here heart doubles in size, like the Grinch hearing the Who's down in Whoville singing a Christmas song.
What follows is a pictorial essay on the moms in my family and a couple of other moms who have played a big part in my life. The blessings these ladies provide and share are too many to count. I realize it is rather presumptuous to think that all of you would like to sit through a slide show of my family pictures. Admittedly there are a few more pictures of me than are needed, but they are some of my favorite mom moments. If you want to skip it here's a poem that Pam sent me. It pretty much says it all. Enjoy.
The child in the center of the picture is my maternal grandmother - Addie Gertrude Combs, circa age 5.
Bammy Aiken (center) is surrounded by her daughters,
Mercedes Mae Combs (R- my great grandmother) and Aunt Samora Barkely (L)
1984 - Berlie Webb, my paternal Grandmother on the occasion of her 76th birthday.
The recliner chair was her birthday present.
It says something for the staying power of Lazy-Boy chairs
because my father still naps in the very same chair every day.
1975 - Five generations:
Front row: Great Grammy Combs, Michele Shrock, Grammy Aldrich
Back Row: Mom Reynolds, Linda Shrock
1973: Great Grammy Combs, Grammy Reynolds, Weneki
2007. Lauren Kuhl holding her daughter Quinn
The vacation from hell:
L-R: Key West Johnny, Merry ME, (the skinny years) Weneki
Circa 1976: Weneki and ME (Princess #3)
2009: 3 Generations of Shrock ladies
L-R: Chloe Lamaonica, her mom Shannan, her mom, Linda (Princess #1)
and her daughter Michele
2007: Liana Webster and her mom Lauren
Sept. 2009: ME and Zori (Zubin's mom)
Circa 2007: L-R: Kacey, her mom Kristen, Annaleigh, Derek and Ashlynn
2010: L-R: Judy (Princess #4) Judy,
her son Daniel, his girlfriend Jamie, Kim and Adam (Judy's son)
2009: L-R: Princess #5, Jean, her son Josh, and her daughter Deana
2009: L-R: Angela Garcia, her daughter Giana,
Grampy Reynolds, Princess #2, Gramma JoJo
2009: L-R: The Belchers - Preston, Laura, ME and Robert
Cade Green and his mom Brenda
Princess #3, Merry Me and baby Johnny
L-R: Grammy ME, Ashley Megan, and her mom Leila
Graeme and his mom Michele
Even though it's late, I wish for each of you a heart full of motherly love,
Merry ME
* http://www.insight.org/library/articles/parenting/greatest-influence.html, May 2010, E-Newsletter.
Comments
Now, back to this awesome post. Wow.
Enjoy your time together, celebrating all of this bubbling and amazing Life.
xoxoLC