About my Mom:
She was the first of six children with a new sister or brother arriving every year and a half or two. She was her mother's biggest help, carrying a great responsibility, taking care of the younger ones while her mom and dad worked in the fields.
You see, they lived on a farm of five acres and independence thanks to Franklin Delano Roosevelt. And when the children were old enough and able, they worked in the fields, as well, filling the sacks on their shoulders with cotton to take to the market. And the meals that graced their dinner table, were their home-grown potatoes, accompanied with milk - making a kind a potato soup.
At age sixteen she found a job in local store. At seventeen, she met my father, when he came home from the war. They were married a short time later, and it wasn't long before they had two little girls.
Unfortunately, my parents divorced when I was two. And since my mom had to take a job, it meant that my sister and I were alone at home, while mom worked.
When I was eight, my mom remarried, to my step-father, whose influence offered stability and relationship, to me and my sister. On the night they married, my mom told me, "Now you will have a daddy." And we did ... and still do.
Mothers: They are the first attachment of our lives. As infants in the womb, we hear and learn the heartbeat of our mother. And when we are born, that is why our newborn children like to lay on mom's chest...to hear the familiar sound of her heartbeat.
And the bond of mother/child remains throughout our lives. Whether a close relationship or one that grew apart, choosing to be estranged in what is called a "silent epidemic", our mothers will always be ... our mothers and the "other" most familiar voice inside our head.
The pictures in the photo above, are of my mother, me, my stepfather, my sister, my mother's parents, my nephew, and my son, who was a year old at the time.
Also, the photo of my mom holding my little girl at six weeks old, and a visitor who brought balloons was taken in her hospital room. I kind of knew it was the only picture I would have of my mom with her only granddaughter. (My husband and I have two grandchildren, that we love dearly, and another on the way.) While I am so thankful for the photo of my mom with my children, I believe she would have cherished knowing my children, her grandchildren.
With great sadness, she passed away, that evening. But I was so thankful she got to see her granddaughter. I also believe that she was immediately welcomed into the presence of Jesus, her Savior, where He welcomed her with joy, and asked, "Well, how 'bout that little girl and grandson!"
And, through all of her life, and even today, my mother is still ... my mother. Yes, she is often the voice in my head; sometimes, the one I need to hear, and the other, I may or may not, want to hear, responding or choosing differently.... But no matter what .... she is always .... my mother... who perhaps loved me more that I could imagine.
For all who have lost their mothers. May we remember their parental love; that dynamic expression, which will always remain, in our hearts and minds.
For the Support of Your Life
For the Many Sides of Life
The thoughts and opinions expressed in The Conversant Counselor’s Blog do not necessarily reflect those belonging to any other individual or professional.
Submitted by Paulette Jackson