A Daughter WithOut Mom on Mother's Day

To avoid the greeting card aisle filled with nothing but Mother’s Day cards, rivaled my loveless affair with liver and onions. Even as I zoomed past cards, I swear the words, “To My Dear Mother,” screamed after  me.  As people picked out the most perfect Mother’s Day card, envy, not blood, flowed through my veins.

Did these people know how blessed they were?

My mother died from yellow liver atrophy almost three months to the day after elective  surgery. Mom was forty-three years old and I just thirteen. Death robbed Mom of her life. Death robbed me from a life of having a mother.  In a blink of an eye, the new normal became my dad and me.  Even at thirteen years old, I wondered how we would survive. Mom never hesitated to spank me, yet I would endure thousands spanks a day, if God would bring her back.

My simple ice cream filled world melted. No more Mom and me, ‘girls only’ nights when Dad worked late. Mom  drove as far as time and ice cream took us. We sang, mostly off key, to songs blasted from the car radio.  No more would I watch Mom put on eyeshadow and wonder if I would ever be as pretty. Her death made Mother’s Day became just another Sunday without football.

For twenty years, I let mom’s death become the blame for my stumbles. My confidence waned as I doubted my self worth. Mom had my first and best cheerleader. She was my nurturer and strongest female I knew.  And now my mother was gone.

Even though life moved on,  I so lagged behind.  Somehow I had to deal and learn from her death, because I wanted to live my own.  I was sick and tired of being sick and tired of not being able to change the past. I had to embrace her death and move on.  I went to the bible and God’s Word opened my mind with Psalms 121 (NIV): “I lift up my eyes to the hills-where does my help come from?”

No longer, do  I avoid the Mother’s Day card aisle.  Like everyone else, I hunt for the perfect card.  How can I not show thanks to the woman who said at the end of each day with “Mama love”?  As  we savored
ice cream, this woman explained  how  a girl’s bloom into a young lady should not be scary, yet celebrated.  So I  smile with memories abound and sign my chosen Mother’s Day card. It is then tucked away with the others.

Although our life together was just thirteen years, that life was more valuable than rubies. My mother’s spirit dances within me every second, every minute of  every day. I am truly blessed.  I know  we’ll see each other again. Our laughter and songs will once again  fill the air, with some ice cream for good measure. Praise God.

(c)2015

PS. And the photo is my mom and me :)
#Mother's Day

Mother's Day Sunday

As the sun sets on this Mother's Day 2012, I smile of the memories I have of my mom. I have mentioned on this blog, Mom passed away when I was 13 and she only a young 43.  I am the woman I am because of her life and also because of her death. No matter how old I get, I wish Mom and I would have had more time on this earth together. I think of the dumb-dumb mistakes I have made on this road called life.  Although, I probably would have made them anyhow, if Mom had lived, I would have her to go back to--for more smoother road for life lessons. 

As a motherless daughter, we still need a strong female influence in our lives. I can be honest to say, I did not have such an influence after Mom's death. Oh sure, family was there, even a step-mother later on, yet it was not the same. My step-mother and I were  complete opposites. Instead of encouragement, she dished up the negative things I did and supposedly was--all not in the ear shot of my dad. Anyway, we all move on. We learn. We grow.We remember. We smile. On this day, as the sun sets, I remember my mom. Which is the way it will always be.  

Here's a link from last year's Mother's Day post. 

Thoughts at 1:20 AM

It's Sunday Morning and I should be in bed. More time than intended was spent on a school paper. Part of our task was to turn it thru the Plagiarism dealy bop on the school's site. Gee, it spotted the quote (and my citation) of it as plagiarism...anyway. I finished all that a few minutes ago. I had to have it posted by 1:59AM.

I planned to be in bed by 1:59AM I still will be. Oh, and since this is an online class, our participation partly grade on our answer to discussion questions. Well, I notice a girl's response seemed familiar. I realized she'd copied and pasted her response from our online textbook. I was gonna through her under the bus and back over her, then I thought I'd e-mail her--then I thought know--I'll tell the teacher. Granted, the teach might already know--yet if I write those responses and mine are mine--then so should everybody!

Enough on that. On Saturday I attended a Remembering Mom luncheon. It was for those that have experienced mother loss. Today is hard for us--the hoopla surrounding Mom, and your mom isn't physically there for you to hoopla about. A hundred, mostly women and some men were there. At the end, we released balloons with little notes we attached, written to our moms. I got weepy then. I watched 'our' balloon soar high and out of site--pretty windy Dallas day. I prayed my mom was on the closet cloud and able to get my balloon.

I realized how much I missed Mom at that moment. How much I've missed out ON. I never really had a strong female role model after she passed. I knew that then, even though I couldn't define it.

My mom died 39 years ago at age 43. I've lived longer than Mom ever had a chance too. It's sad really. I've chartered territory we should have gone together. What adventures Mom and I would have had. That cats we would have fought over and the laughs we would have shared. How different my life would've been.

I know--things happen for a reason. God said it was time for Mom to go Home, those 39 years ago. But why when I was just a kid? The bible says God has a plan for me. My eyes and heart must be open to receive it. .

I wonder if they finally are.

Click here to read my Mother's Day post 2009.

I miss you, Mommy.

******UPDATE********
I made it to church this morning. Dragged alot. Not enough sleep. My Pastor Rickie Rush, of Inspiring of Christ Church spoke of Mothers, their purpose and their love for us. For me, I'd always wondered why my mother died when she and I were both so young. I carried alot of guilt about that.

Pastor Rush brought it on home to me. How Satan knows the child is a miracle. In my case, I was the try for a baby, after my parents suffered through four stillborns. How great things are in store for the child--so how to get at the child? I was born with one ear and nobody knew how far I would venture, then my mom dies when I'm 13. My main female influence was gone-so maybe my dreams, passions would die along with her.

Well, things may have been dormant for a spell, however you ain't seen nothing yet!

Stay tuned.

May 10, 2009 is Mother's Day

The picture is my mom and me when I was nine weeks old. We both thought we'd have along time together.
Mom died when I was 13. Complications, three months after her 1971 weight loss surgery, contributed to her death. My mom was just 43.

Needless to say, my Mother's Days were not all rose blooms and happy cards. Tears drown my eyes while 'what if's' flooded my brain.

Took a very long time to reach peace on this day. Other Motherless Daughters--regardless of their age, may feel the same.

Below is a piece I wrote about going through Mother's Day without a mom.

A day to remember.

Always.

Another View

Years ago, avoidance of the greeting card aisle near Mother’s Day rivaled my loveless affair with liver and onions. Even as I rushed past the cards, the words, “To My Dear Mother,” screamed at me. As people did their best to pick the most perfect Mother’s Day card, envy, not blood, flowed through my veins. Did they know how blessed they were?

My mother died from yellow liver atrophy almost three months to the day after surgery. She was forty-three. I was thirteen. She was too young to die and I was too young to be left without a mom. Now it was just my dad and me. Even at thirteen, I wondered how we would survive. I hated that my mom never hesitated to spank, yet I would let her spank me a thousand times over if God would bring her back.

My peaceful world was gone. No more ‘girls only’ nights when my dad worked late. We’d drive as far as time and ice cream took us. Laughs and song filled the air. No more would I watch her put on eyeshadow and wonder if I would ever be as pretty.

Mother’s Day soon became just another Sunday without football.

For twenty years, I permitted my mom’s death to be the root of my stumbles. Life moved on, but I lagged behind. I somehow had to learn from her life so I could finally live my own.
I was sick and tired of being sick and tired of not being able to change the past. I had to embrace my mom’s death and move on. God’s word opened that door with Psalms 121 (NIV): I lift up my eyes to the hills-where does my help come from? I knew where to start.

Now, I no longer avoid the Mother’s Day card aisle. Like everyone else, I hunt for the perfect one. How can I not celebrate the woman who introduced me to A & W onion rings while she explained changes a young girl experiences are a celebration? I sign my card with love and tuck it away with the others.

Our life together lasted just thirteen years, yet was more valuable than rubies. My mother’s spirit dances within me every second, every minute, every day. I am truly blessed, for I know one day we’ll see each other again. Our laughter and songs will fill the air. Praise God.
©2008

I am blessed.

Mother's Day...

My mom died when I was 13. So long ago. We missed growing up together. I regret that. My mom died of complications from an elective surgery. In raw terms, she died from complications from weight loss surgery. Now this was 1971--things were not as they were now. Our family doctor was not for it. Yet, my mom saw the success of her younger sister, plus my 17 year cousin--and wanted to have it done. Mom was like a lot of us women--yo yo'd all her life. My dad didn't want her to have it. Something told me, I didn't want her to have it. Yet, she had her own mind (That's where I get it from) and wentwith the doctor her sister and niece had.

Mom had this surgery in June 1971. On September 27, 1971 she died. Yellow liver aptrophy.

She left a husband and teenage daughter.

For years, I blamed myself. If I would have said something. Yet, she was so happy 'to be thin'.....I was so guilted. Every year, my dad told me, "She was going to do it anyway, honey. Her mind was made up." He knew her death ate at me. So for those years, I hated Mother's Day. I didnt' even want to show my face to anything or anybody on that day. I didn't deserve to be happy.

I eventually did have a step-mother, yet she was not my mom. My dad loved her, and he was happy--that's what mattered.

My strength from God caused me to grow up and move on. Wasn't easy. And it began about decades after my mom died. So it wasn't so quick either--yet was I ready to even listed to God? When he really began to knock on the door? Nope. I turned a deaf ear.

I wonder how my life would've been with her Earthly impact. We would have fought along the way, yet those fights would be laced with love. I have my dreams. My memories. The guilt I felt is gone. The love she had for me is there.

Mother's Day is day I can smile. Sure, I remember her spankings--:) Yet, I remember her introduction for me to A & W onion rings. Mom asked, 'You like onions, right?" So I bit into one--LOVE. Things like that. Words of encouragment. The fact she said I was her 'angel'--I wonder how would have been. Yet, the life had was good.

Happy Mother's Day!