A Tribute to My Mother

Tribute to My Mother

Mother’s Day was last Sunday and, amongst my all-too-many time commitments, I managed to squeeze in some (hopefully quality) time with my mother. I’ve been blessed to have my mom for 57 years and each year I grow to appreciate her more and more. She’s long past the stage where I can buy something simple, like another potted plant or piece of jewelry, to commemorate “her” day and I racked my brain trying to think of an appropriate gift for this year. Then it occurred to me, I’m a writer. So here is my tribute to my mother.

Mom loves holidays and making every one special was one of her many talents. Christmas found her decorating every room of the house with some festive detail, from the Christmas tree in the living room, to centerpieces on the tables, holiday candles and knick-knacks everywhere, and a little red and white mouse she hid in a nook or cranny somewhere in the house for us to find. Every Halloween she made costumes for each of us, from fairy dresses to crepe paper pumpkins. Easter meant new dresses, hats and shiny patent leather shoes and baskets full of toys and candy hidden on stairs, in the clothes dryer or on top of the refrigerator. Thanksgiving dinner, Memorial Day picnics, 4th of July parades, every event was special because of her.

A fair number of my prom and Homecoming dresses were hand made by my mom. Craft projects were another of her strong suits. Years ago the school had end-of-the-year barbeques. There was an art and pet fair as well, and one year Mom helped me make a flower in a jar project. In retrospect, she probably made the whole thing but we pretended it was my work. It was a beautiful thing, a flower anchored on the lid of the jar filled with water and turned upside down. I was sure it was a first prize winner. I dropped it before I got it to school. It was devastating then, but I see now it served to remind me once again how much time and love was invested in me.

She baked cookies or cupcakes to take to school on our birthdays, each one individually decorated, often with each classmate’s name written on them. Mom made pancake “men” for breakfast and still makes the best homemade cinnamon rolls. And I know she won’t appreciate this, but quite often when making supper she’d scorch the potatoes. There’s nothing better than the smoky flavor of a slightly scorched potato. I’ve tried for years to do it but just can’t seem to manage.

Mom has had a flower garden for as long as I can remember. Years ago an elderly neighbor woman complained that she spent hours on her garden and my mother spent hardly any time tending her own, yet Mom’s garden outshone the other year after year. I inherited a bit of that green thumb. Every spring and summer she would pick flowers from her garden and just throw them together in the perfect arrangement, a talent I have yet to master.
She’s one of the supermoms – she did it all. But I’ll stop here with a little poem and just say, I love you Mom.

My Mother
A maker of memories, molder of dreams,
A hand to hold, a smile that beams.
Chauffeur, seamstress, nursemaid, cook,
A listening ear, a knowing look.
Fun and laughter, wisdom and wit,
Did I ever thank you for any of it?
A mother is these and so many things
I’m blessed in the gifts my mother’s love brings.