Mother's Day will be celebrated this Sunday. I probably don't have to tell you that. Hey Loth, do they celebrate Mother's Day in Scotland? I was thinking today about being a Mom, and about my own mother. I thought it would be nice to share a few memories of both.
LeLe was the first girl in my husband's family, since he was one of three boys. My father-in-law jumped for joy at her birth. But that is not my memory, as I was busy elsewhere. My memory is of trying to have her on my own, but being unable, therefore, she was a C-Section.
One very sweet memory was of her, after we brought her home from the hospital. We lived in a small mobile home, that wasn't very heat effecient. We supplemented our heat, by using a small propane gas heater in the corner of the living room. One morning, there was still a chill in the air, as it was still early April, and I put a quilt down on the floor, close enough to the heat that it would be warm, but not close enough to be dangerous. My grandmother would call that "laying a pallet." I laid LeLe down on her tummy, and she fell asleep. As I walked back and forth doing housework, I would stop periodically, kneel down and give her butterfly kisses on her cheek. In her sleep, she would turn her face up to my lips. That is one of the most precious memories I have of her.
My J was also a section baby. He was born during the ice storm of 83. The time I spent in my hospital room was miserable, because the cable was frozen and I couldn't watch tv. My only comfort was when they brought him to me to nurse. After coming home, his father and I would sit in our bentwood rocker with a pillow in our lap, and lay him on his back, with his face toward us. We rocked that baby boy night and day and loved every single minute of it. We rocked him until he was so big, his feet would reach our shoulders, and still we rocked him. If I could, I would rock him now.
I can remember with my mother, going to the dentist and to the Ear, Nose and Throat doctor, because I had chronic ear aches. She begged them to take out my tonsils, but they maintained nothing was wrong with them.
I remember coming home from school and having a huge pot of purple hull peas cooked with cornbread. My mom could always cook like nobody's business.
I remember her going to work when I was in junior high school, to pay for all the things I wanted to do. Cheerleading, majorette, club activities and such. She sacrificed time and effort to give me as much as she could. She and my Dad worked hard to make all five of their children's lives better.
I remember how she would try to massage my migraines away. Sometimes it helped, sometimes not, but I had her all to myself and her loving hands on me.
I would like to read of your memories. If you are a Mom, what's a special memory you have? And what special memory do you have of your Mom while you were growing up? So I challenge you dear readers, tell us your stories. Tell us what your mother means to you.