Happy Mother's Day

This may be a little late in coming to the blog, but it IS heartfelt.  I wish everyone a Happy Belated Mother's Day and hope that your day was truly spectacular in every way.  

 

I remembered my mother yesterday and cried just a little, wishing that she would have been here to just spend the day with her, hug her and tell her one more time how much I loved and missed her.

 

She was quite a remarkable mom and absolutely lived for her family.  My fondest memories of my mother were in the later years when we (children) would drive her to dialysis every week.  The car rides would give me a chance to catch her up on what was going on in my life and to get her very wise advice.  Sometimes we didn't talk at all as she would be too tired or worried.   She never complained about being on the dialysis machine for hours at a time though.  That's just the way that she was. 

 

In the earlier years of my life, I remember her standing in front of a stove and frying chicken - filling up a huge roaster of fried chicken (to this day, no one makes it like Mom!) for a picnic we were having - usually Dad's birthday in August.  My mother always cooked enough to feed a small starving nation - something she passed on to her daughters (you can never have enough food!).

 

She loved taking care of the grandchildren (21 of them), rocking them to sleep and cuddling them, wiping their tears and comforting their fears.  There was no greater love than the love of my mother for her grandchildren or children.  Family was the center of her life.

 

Her love of "soap operas"   pretty much stopped life on the farm until Young and the Restless and As The World Turns were over and she loved spending time with dad, taking rides on Sundays to "check the crops." 

 

She had the greenest thumb of anyone I knew, and loved to grow flowers, plants and a vegetable garden that was the envy of the township. I spent many hours with her in that garden and learned to appreciate her hard work and dedication to growing vegetables that fed our family all winter long.

 

Her piano playing was unreal.  She played by ear and could play any song she heard.  We had an upright piano and she would make that thing dance while playing the Beer Barrel Polka, or Sweet Georgia Brown.  We often had jam sessions on Saturday nights with Dad playing along in the fiddle and my brother Terry on the drums or harmonica.  

 

I remember her support and love when my first marriage and life was falling apart at the seams.  Her loving, comforting arms and quiet spoken words, "it wasn't meant to be Sherry, God has a different plan for you" brought me through the toughest time of my life thus far. 

 

There are many, many more memories that I can share with you about my mother but time and space prevent me from doing so.   The most important thing I want to share with you is this: Her love was unconditional, her strength was phenomenal.  

 

I love you Mom.

 

Sherry