Friday, May 6, 2011

T'was two days before Mom's Day and all of the states of these US...

Love is abounding with remembering the woman who gave us all our lives, who we called Mommy, Mom, or Mother.


Amazingly, all the love we spew is given as hers is or was unconditionally if we were lucky enough to have a Goddess for our matriarch of the home we grew up in.
Although, my memory appears to be fading since my Mom has been gone from this planet over twenty-nine years this past February 15th; but I must admit I still don’t forget the truth about our relationship.

From a young age I was a difficult child, strong willed and fresh with talking back and some even said extremely bright since I spoke like an adult at two, but devilish too, and at times it would not be farfetched to call me a ‘brat’, and others might have called me a very nasty nick name, Ptomaine Tobi and I wasn’t even a teen at this time! But Mom always loved me. Then unfortunately it was bumping heads in not agreeing with whatever I was told about anything and by the time I was twelve I was told if you don’t like what clothes I buy you should go get a job and pay for your own, and so I did! But Mom always loved me.
Yes, I started babysitting at that tender age and walked the five miles one way to the mall to purchase my own clothes at Lerner’s, see a brat! But Mom always loved me.
Oddly enough I passed the time, eventually, in my life when my ‘Mom’ soon would become my confidant and dear friend, when I married.
She couldn’t cook and so she couldn’t teach me that; in reality she was hoping I would marry a rich man and have a cook and a maid, not unlike how she grew up, sorry! But the things she didn’t know she compensated by knowing other things that young married woman needed to know, not what you’re thinking but other things, and all of a sudden my Mom knew more than me about something!
And once our sons were born Mom and I spoke daily or saw each other nearly as often, we only lived the furthest no more than twenty minutes from each other the entire time she was alive, most of that time only really about a mile or two away.
And so all who have difficult daughters or sons now, perhaps someday they will come around; one can only hope.
That’s not to say that the evil me didn’t disagree with my dear sweet Mom; why yes we would argue but never ever held a grudge and would call each other within the hour to apologize, and often act like all was well once again, because it always was, since hers and my love was unconditional with one another.

Sadly, when my Mom died of a massive stroke we were going to go out to celebrate Hubby’s and mine eleventh anniversary since that Monday was President’s Day and we and the children were all available, but that was not to be since Mom died before that lunch at eleven twenty that morning, of February the 15, 1982.
Not a day goes by that I still don’t think about calling her and talk and think daily how she would want to know this or that was going on in our lives.

It was especially difficult when the boys were so small at that time, only six and nine years old; they did so many things that Grandma would have loved to have seen up close and personal…I do know that many feel solace in the belief that she still watches over all of us and knows all, but I can only hope that is true and I do want to believe that is true.

You see, I talk to her and Dad as often as I can, weird?
Nah, refreshing and a strange feeling of elation thinking that they are still there when I need them as always…and I always love them...still...

Hope you all don’t think now I proved to you that I am what you only thought might be that I am ‘Bonkers’! LOL!

Well, here’s what you’ll get for that belief… PROBABLY I am, since I am now sticking my adult tongue out at you!

On that ridiculous end to a heartfelt remembrance, let me be the first to wish you all a very happy good night and to ask you all to count your blessings and to share all those overages and we will too!

And next time, be here there or wherever you care to be, ya hear me?

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