My parents were born exactly two years and one week apart. My mom was the older woman, so scandalous! Last Thursday would have been my dad’s 97th birthday and I reprinted some excerpts about him from my book My Pineapples Went to Houston. Today would have been my mom’s 99th birthday–she made it all the way to 96–and she was definitely NOT one to tolerate being slighted, so here’s my tribute to her that was published on Mothers Always Write. Happy birthday, Mommy. I still “wanchoo.” And thanks to Mothers Always Write for publishing my essay.
Lee, it is a good thing I don’t wear mascara because I’d be traipsing off to work this morning with black streaks on my face. You and I have so much in common. The 4th child and the baby. My brother lived and I was a ‘mistake’ since the family was complete with him. I was soooo attached to my mother, we were inseparable. And there are family jokes about me crying for her whenever we were separated, like every day of first grade. I was 54 when Mom died at 87 and I so related to the description of your pain, sobbing, and anxiety at finding yourself without a mother for the first time in your life. What a beautiful post, my lovely friend. I love you.
Thank you, my sweet friend. See, we are even more related than we knew! They left us great legacies, but it sure is hard some days to be the ones left behind. Maybe we are our moms’ gifts to each other! I’ll bet they schemed together in heaven! Love you, girlfriend!
I think you could be on to something!
I’ve done some of my best writing about my mother and apparently, so do you!
That is so kind, Carol. Thank you, girlfriend. XO
Lee, such a beautiful story and although I cannot relate to being the consolation baby, I am an only child and very close to my mother, as well. I know one day I will experience these emotions and loss. Blessings to you and thank you for sharing.
Back at ya, Laurie, because I just read your lovely piece about your grandmother. It’s so hard to lose these women from our lives, but we were so lucky to have them and are able to keep their memories alive. Thanks for reading!
Lovely post Lee 😊 I’m older than my husband by 3 years – so just as scandalous as your mum 😜
I knew you walked on the wild side in those boots! 🙂 Thanks, Linda, for your kind words. XO
So beautifully written, Lee. I lost my mother in my twenties, I can not help but wish she could have been around for a while longer.
Thank you, Margaretha. In your twenties is way too young to lose your mom. I’m so sorry, but she certainly raised an amazing, accomplished and compassionate daughter.
Your mum has a beautiful, kind face. I lost my Mum in my late 20s after her 10 year battle with cancer. She managed to see my two children born but was gone by the time my eldest was 4. I can feel exactly what you are going through – it gets a little easier.
Your mom sounds like an incredible and brave fighter. I’m so glad she saw your children born, but I can imagine how much you missed having her as they grew up. XO
I remember this piece and it is still so beautiful and heartwrenching.
Thank you. It’s weird to think that NOW I’m the older generation of the family. My mother was the last of her family to pass away. My cousins looked at each other at her funeral and said, “Now, we’re guardians, yikes!”
As an only child I was a bit of the consolation baby…and everything else. I love how you hung your head somberly both understanding and not your role in your family. It sounds through its sadness a beautiful place to be. At the risk of using one piece to analyze a life long loving relationshipm I want to offer this interpretation of your mother’s lost memory. Perhaps she didn’t need the consoling any longer. Perhaps her memories of her life remained charmed after her hip surgery. Yet even though she no longer needed you she loved and appreciated you. Which is something in and of itself.
I like your interpretation. I prefer to think she was completely content and at peace–and she seemed to be. A funny aside, she forgot about my dad, too (although he had died ten years earlier). She kept asking us, “whatever happened to that guy, the one I used to go with.” They went together for 58 years! 🙂
Oh my goodness. Apparently I shouldn’t have put my mascara on before reading your blog today. Just beautiful.
I just realized my blog has turned into an obituary column! Yikes, not so good for a humor writer! But October is the month of my dad’s birthday, my mom’s birthday and the month my sister passed away, so lots of reflections. Next post, only for laughs! 🙂
Your mom was beautiful!
What a nice thing to say! she was beautiful…and crazy, in a good way!