My mother is not here...
It's Mother's Day COVID style. It's not that I mind being home alone, but it should be appropriate that my children spend little time with me. I am, after all, the only mother they have. They may have had other women in their lives that meant as much to them like me, or maybe even more, but you cannot change who your mother is - can you?
Sorry, it's not so bad. There are FaceTime calls, and supper plans and a Sunday afternoon nap in the works. But, with the cold fierce wind and social distancing, I was missing my mom today in the worst way. So I made one. That's correct, I made a "grossmuther" doll as a surrogate mother/grandmother. She's lumpy and doesn't yet have a face or shoes, but she's wearing a dress from fabric my mother purchased when she was quilting. I inherited it. But, that's not all of the gifts from my mom and grandmother.
When Covid19 hoarding began, I said to JC, "aren't you glad I am prepared?" I had no immediate need to run to the store and buy toilet paper, flour and yeast. These are a few of the staples in my pantry, along with bleach, vinegar, sugar, oatmeal, coffee, whole grains for grinding, flax seed, etc. etc. etc.
My mother was a prepper, and my grandmother grew up in an era of preparedness. There was no running to town every time you are out of something. You either made due or didn't do it at all. My mother was also a master at opening up the cupboard and creating something to eat from whatever was available. I love to do that. There are times that I do get a little tired of similar dishes and make a list, go to the grocery store and have a party buying things I don't usually cook with. But for the most part, if push comes to shove, I would be able to create the things that my ancestors thrived on in the great Depression. We are sooooo much better off. Yet, we still complain.
I miss my mom more than I thought I would, so if you have yours around, tell her what she means to you today. I am so blessed to have my grandchildren close enough to see whenever I wish. Granddaughter Lucy and brother, Oliver, were out here a couple of weeks ago, just hanging out. We took a garden tour because it was much nicer a few weeks ago than it will be this week, ugh. I want to plant my garden so bad and I have to be patient because it's just not time.
I said to Lucy, "well, I didn't take a shower today, how does my hair look?"
She thought a moment and then said, "like a doll." And, you know what, she's right. My hair is like a Barbie Doll's hair. The more you comb it the wilder it gets. I have had to live with that nearly my whole life. I am sure wondering what it will be like when it's all over gray and even finer than it is today. My mom's mom, Emma, had fine white hair.
She used to pin it in circles on her head crossed with two bobby pins (for those of you who do not know what a bobby pin is... Google it). Before the whole family arrived for a holiday or church, she would pull out those pins and fluff it up and it looked kinda like my new doll's hair.
Oh, how I miss them and my Aunt Alice and a few other people who are "in a better place." And, without further rambling, I hold this in my heart - an old German saying, "until we meet again in heaven."
Have a wonderful Mother's Day.
PS: here is a post I wrote for Mother's Day in 2011 - it's cute and about my son.
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Sue B. Balcom
Writing, or maybe talking, comes naturally to me and under the guidance of a great newspaper editor I have acquired skills that led me to author four books.