I visited with my mother today. No, not in person, unfortunately. My mother died about twenty -five years ago, but there is hardly a day that goes by that she (or my dad) does not make an appearance of some kind in my memory.
My dad is always with me because I have three of his favorite oak chairs in my sun room. My SO uses the rocker, my old, crabby kitty has her bed in the captain's chair and my favorite chair in the whole, wide world is Dad's old Morris chair. I spend lots of time with Dad.
I sense my mom's essence in my office because three of her cherished possessions have permanent residency there. Mom's battered recipe box and her dog-eared Betty Crocker Cookbook grace a shelving unit about five feet away from me. When I am feeling particularly in need of a 'mother-moment', I'll open up her recipe box and slowly go through the three-by-five cards that are yellowing with age. I don't think there is anything more personal than a woman's recipe collection. The cards have her hand-writing and they bespeak of her and my family's food preferences. There are recipes from both my grandmothers and old family friends. It is always a walk down memory lane. But, it is when I sit and sew with my mom's old Singer 401A that I feel the closest to her. When I am perched on my sewing stool, hands touching the metal of the old machine, nose detecting years of sewing machine oil that keep the faithful gears running smoothly, it is as if Mom is seated right next to me. I can still hear her original instructions on how to thread the old 401A just as if I was ten years old and back in 4-H where Mom was my leader. I look forward to my time at mom's sewing machine. I bring a cup of coffee or tea with me and it is as if I'm having a hot beverage with my mom. Oh, how I long to be able to sit down with her and simply chat away like old friends.
OK. That last line brought a little dampness to my eyes. My lesson learned here is one that I already knew.........You're never too old to miss your mother!
Ancora imparo
