Today happens to be that one day a year we celebrate our Mothers. The women who with love soothed away all the hurts from our scrapes and bumps. The woman, who listened to our tales, washed behind our ears and tucked us into bed at night. Not all of them were professional at the job and some even abandoned it, but we all still give thanks that we had one and that they had us.
I belong to a special group now and have for over 7 years. I belong to that sisterhood of women who have lost their moms. We are the people who look over at you and your Mom shopping and smile at you. We are the women who long to express to each and every one of you to cherish your Mother right now when you have the chance. We are the women who also realize there is nothing we can say or do to help you understand the pain and void that will fill your whole being after your Mom is gone. We are the women who unfortunately see history continue to repeat itself.
I guess it is all part of life’s cycle and we each have to learn that lesson on our own.
I would like to say a few things in tribute to my Mom. There is far too much to say in such a small space however maybe someday that book will get done and you can read all about this wonderful woman.
Muriel Yvonne Tingley was her maiden name. She was the mother of six children whom she loved the best way she knew how. She worked very hard all her life to support us because my father was quite often out of a job and by the time I was sixteen he took off and left her to raise the six children.
My mother did so many things; she sewed for months to make sure we all had new pajamas and clothes for Christmas. I’m not sure how she kept it all secret either since there were only four bedrooms in the house. She washed all our clothes on a wringer washer and filled the air with baking and cooking. She always said “ If you had nothing nice to say about a person then don’t say it at all”. However the thing she said which stays with me is “Even though I’m not there, behave because I’m right behind you.” I often feel something and look behind myself and smile because I know she is there with me.
I miss my Mother and although with each passing year I discover more about what she endured by living through some of it myself. Wouldn't it be nice to know what we do years later at the time that it matters?