May 8, 2011 is Mother's Day

Mom and Me. We just started our lives together. We thought an entire life time was ahead of us. We did start our with lots of promise. Three months after weight loss surgery, because of complications, Mom died. She was 43, and I was just 13. Not quite the entire life time we thought we'd have. Since then, Mother's Day has not always been rose petals, kisses and funny cards. Women who have experienced mother loss, regardless of age, may have feel the same. Below is a piece I've written about my experience with mother loss and Mother's Day.
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.
©2011

July 9, 1928 was Monday

And the day my mom was born. Eighty-one years ago. If Mom had lived I try to picture her at this age. Would she still be as fiesty as I remember? Still savor her gin? Let her hair go naturally gray? That part I kinda doubt. Would she still love me as much?

I know this part to be true. I wonder if Mom would be as proud We didn't have time to get into 'chats' about what I ought to do as a grown up. Mom died of complications from weight loss surgery in 1971. Yellow liver atrophy got her on a Friday and by Monday Mom was gone. So I always think of how it could be. I do remember my interest in taking French in high school, while Mom thought I should type and such--it was the 70's.

When Mom was second of five kids, plus second daughter I wonder what her parents thought? I can imagine Mom being a fussy baby--needed stuff done that second. Her family was poor--and I'm not sure of how much love was shown. Mom's mom passed when I was a year old. While by the time Mom died, she and her father were estranged. I later asked my own Dad if my grandfather attended his second daughter's funeral. Dad said he did. I still wonder.

With the deaths of Marilyn Monroe, Elvis and now Michael Jackson, maybe Mom wasn't suppose to get old. Maybe she always knew. Mom told me how she wanted to be buried when I was about 11 years old. Mom died at age 43 when I was 13. I've since crossed that 43 plateau and gone onto territory Mom never had a chance to get to. That's why I wonder what she would think? Honestly, I picture Mom's stare and then squint while asked--using my FULL name-"Just what are you doing?"

Nonetheless, on this day I do smile to think Mom and Dad sit on some cloud. A cloud with a pond so they could fish. Hey, it's Heaven--so everything is possible! And in this picture where Mom gets our food ready on one of many weekend fishing jaunts. Now back on that cloud, Mom and Dad watch over me as they cast out their line. I hope they smile. They loved to fish together. And they loved me--together.

So just what am I doing?

Stay tuned.

A Day Like No Other

The lady is my mom. One of three pictures from those photobooths, somewhere in the ’60s. Have so few pictures of Mom. Due to most of the pictures I do have, Mom snapped. I’m told I favor her. My dad would say I looked just liked her. An uncle said I laughed like her. Don’t remember her laugh. I wish I did. Today is a bittersweet. For this moment, I put on my tennis shoes so I can get a quick walk in before Dancing With the Stars Results show. While I walk, I’ll think about Mom. How we would have gotten into DWTS. She loved to watch me dance eventho she relayed the heartbreaking ‘fact’ (what my dance teacher said) “Black Girls can’t be ballerinas.” All I ever really wanted to do was dance on my toes.

Often wonder what kind of friends Mom and I would be today. Sure, she’d be 80 this year, but I know my mom wouldn’t be like her grandma’s 80. Get my wit, determination and, I suppose my assertiveness from her. I miss my mom. Our life together was cut short so many years ago. September 24, in 1971 was a Friday. I raced home to tell my parents about my day that included a pep rally. I just wanted to see them because Mom hadn’t felt well for a few weeks. Since she’d elected weight loss surgery, three months prior, in June. Mom laid in bed, with my dad by her side. I saw Mom alive for the last time that night as paramedics wheeled her from our home. Mom pet our Siamese cat goodbye and told him to be good. Mom kissed me and told me when she wasn’t there I was woman of the house. Then I heard “Mama love " for the last time.

We buried her on September 29.

I’m thrilled about today. Eager for tomorrow. Sad because I miss yesterday.

I am blessed.