|Dec., 1953-- my sister arrived in Feb., 1954|
Though I'm not a mother, I am a daughter and my own mother was a wonderful person. I never knew my grandmothers. My paternal grandmother died in 1947, before I was born. My maternal grandmother died in 1953, when I was a baby and my mother was only 27. She never let on (to us) how she felt about that loss. I think about that since my memories of her are so strong. She told very few stories about her mother, or her growing-up years, but she was always close to her brothers and extremely close to her second cousins, who were about her mother's age.
|Mother's Day, 2000|
Mother's interests are a legacy obvious in my sister and me. She loved to read. She sewed, needlepointed, and embroidered. (But she did not knit or crochet, and neither do I.) She loved antiques. She loved to garden and she loved flowers, both cultivated and wild. She was curious: she loved to learn and to travel and took copious notes from classes and tours. She was thrifty in some ways (Depression-era childhood plus Scottish heritage) but splurged in other ways (she loved ironed bedsheets so she sent the linens out every week). She had deep faith. She had many friends.
I stitched this piece and gave it to Mother in 2000. The verse is attributed to John Wesley. It exemplifies her attitude and actions.
I hope you have a happy Mother's Day -- whether you are honored by your children and grandchildren, or you, too, have good memories of your mother.