Mother Mine

Yesterday was a day for mothers. A day when we scramble to find a way to show our mothers at least a small fraction of our love for her. For me, however, Mother's day is bittersweet, because my mother has been dead now seven years. Almost exactly seven years to be exact, because she died on May 29, 2003. That makes May a particularly emotional month for me, because it is punctuated with reminders of her absence. Part of me always wants to wallow in self pity this month, but as the years have passed, it just doesn't seem useful.

Instead, I just want to remember her better. I want to hold on to memories more than I want to hold onto my hurt and anger. So I've been thinking about some of my favorite memories. I remember how she used to make dinner every night and wait for my dad to come home. (This was in the time before cell phones were ubiquitous.) She would wait and wait and wait, and finally she would sigh with exasperation and tell us that we would go ahead and eat without him. Of course, no sooner did she issue that pronouncement, his truck would pull into the driveway.

There was the time when my sister told my mother in church, very loudly I might add, that her lipstick made her look like a floozy. This was a concept she picked up from my grandmother, who told her that she shouldn't wear bright red lipstick because it would make her look like a floozy.

And of course, there was the time when mom decided to cook a brisket overnight for the next day. Unfortunately, she turned the heat up way to high in the oven, and we all woke up in the middle of the night to screeching smoke detectors and a house filled with the stench of burning meat. By the time the brisket was removed from the oven, it resembled a charcoal briquette more than a piece of beef.

My mother was kind and funny and determined. She was brave and giving and had a great heart. I love her so much, and I still miss her, but I am determined to hold on to her memory. I am determined to remember the best of her and to apply the things she taught me to my own life. So, as I endured my own PET scan this morning for my own cancer, I tried to emulate her own grace under fire and her trust that the right thing would happen.

Happy Mother's Day, Mom.