Mother’s Day is more than cards

Everybody liked my mother.  Seriously.  Not only they all told me in person after she died, people never missed a chance to tell me what a nice person she was while she was living.

Dorothy grew up in the Depression and that made her a little strange about money.  She never wasted any even after she could have.  For example, every cotton ball that came out of a bottle went into service to remove nail polish.  Why buy a bag when she got perfectly good cotton for free?

As a mother, I give her an A+.  That ability to make $1 do the work of $3 meant that we never went without anything important.  I knew we weren’t rich when I was growing up but I had no idea we could have been considered poor.  She made our clothes, clipped coupons and did whatever else it took to meet our material needs.

More importantly, she was a real mother.  There is never a time I can remember her being too busy to listen to me talk her ears off, drill me for a test or sit patiently while I read her my terrible short stories.  As a I grew up, she adjusted to the adult me, still treating me as a daughter, but no longer as a child.   I have children of my own and believe me, I know how tough it is to do that.

dorothy_weddingWe shared every kind of confidence and she let me know her as a woman and a friend.  This picture was one of her favorites of herself, but my personal favorites were the casual snapshots of her over the years.  There was a whole album of her with dozens of different boys she met at the USO during the war.  There were tons of photos of her with my father, the undisputed love of her life, laughing, hugging, sharing 60 years together.  My sisters and I were so lucky and, I’m happy to say, we knew it and told our parents how much we appreciated them and the life they had given us.

Dorothy loved any kind of holiday or celebration.  Nothing made her happier than a house full of family and friends. She stayed in touch with everyone.  When family or friends moved away, other people might lose touch.  Not my mother.  She was still corresponding with the wives of the men who served with my father in WWII when she died last fall.

She loved to give presents and not just for the big events that everyone remembers.  She bought us candy for Valentine’s Day and, after I started my own family, gave me a something for my anniversary and Mother’s Day.  In the last decade or so, she gave me money so I could buy something I liked.

garden_pinwheelI put my birthday money last year in a drawer the way I always did, waiting to find something special.  I still had it almost a year later when I fell in love with a giant metal pinwheel that just cried out to be put in my garden.  So I took my birthday money and got my last Mother’s Day gift from my mom.

I can see it from every window on the back of my house, spinning around and catching the light.  She would have loved it.  I think of her while I look at it – not that I need any reminders to think about her.

I hope you don’t mind my personal spin on Mother’s Day.  Think of it as an introduction.  I am sure she and my dad will pop up in the conversation a lot.

Advertisements

2 thoughts on “Mother’s Day is more than cards

  1. Another great post, Carol. I am sure it was not easy to write being that your Mother’s passing was so recent. I wish you would have posted a current photo of your mother. I would love to see it.

    I, too, have a few things of my Mother’s around my house, but, as you said, I don’t really need a visual reminder of her. Even though she’s been ‘gone’ for over 6 years, I still think about her nearly everyday.

    • Pat, I have lots more recent photos of my mother but no longer have a scanner. My sister had scanned her wedding picture and it was right here in the computer.

      Writing has been my way of working things out since I was a child. I sometimes sit down and start writing and it’s like something takes over my hands and out pour things I didn’t even know I was thinking. :> It can be very therapeutic!

      She and I talked a lot about my dad after he died 5 years ago. I think it is the way we keep people alive – remembering them and the things we did together.

Leave a Reply

Fill in your details below or click an icon to log in:

WordPress.com Logo

You are commenting using your WordPress.com account. Log Out / Change )

Twitter picture

You are commenting using your Twitter account. Log Out / Change )

Facebook photo

You are commenting using your Facebook account. Log Out / Change )

Google+ photo

You are commenting using your Google+ account. Log Out / Change )

Connecting to %s