Every Mother’s Day I send my best friend Susan’s Mom a card to thank her for putting up with me when I was a kid. From the ages of about ten to eighteen I’m pretty sure I wore out my welcome at her house. I ate her food, swiped her Harlequin Romance novels, and was a co-conspirator in every bit of mischief in which her only daughter was ever involved. Even though the statute of limitations has passed on most of our crimes, 30 something years worth of Hallmark cards could never really repay her kindness or tolerance to this “snot-nosed kid” as she fondly referred to me. This year after selecting her card I stopped short, realizing that it would be the only card I would need to buy. I stood in front of the card rack and stared blankly, remembering that Susie, my step-mom was gone. I felt lost and yet it was a familiar kind of lost if there can be such a thing. I began to think about all the moms I have had over the years. Along with Susie, my mom was gone and my first step-mom, Scooter was gone, but I’ve had all sorts of mothering influences over the past 50 years. My dad’s mom who we called Mammie had a never ending supply of Hershey bars, ice cream and the coolest flower that only bloomed at midnight. She would wake us up to come watch this every time it happened and we never got tired of it. She also used to turn the garden hose on us when we sun bathed on the roof. I could write a book on her alone. My sister, Melinda McNish who broke up our fights (with the Oopie Oopie Ooh Wah song), and tutored us, read Little Orphant Annie to us, and made hamburger pie in those early years has never ceased to be there for each of us even now. She hosts the Dreaded Cookie Party at Christmas and Camp Macaroni in summer for all of our kids and now grandkids. Such bravery cannot be topped. My former mother-in-law, Laura, taught me to love people for who they are and not for who I want them to be. Also how to be the kind of hostess who never sits down during dinner because she is filling tea glasses and taking photos of people while they are chewing. She is the best. I think about my dear sweet friend and BiLo mama, Miss Jerry Clouse, who had a soggy shoulder for several years because she was kind enough to let me cry on it every time I couldn’t pay my tuition or my car would break down or when I got dumped by some nutcase guy who didn’t deserve me in the first place. These things would happen to me on a quarterly basis and she would always remind me that I lived through it last time and that with the Good Lord’s help I would again. And she was right. She also makes a mean foccacia bread. At this particular moment, she owes me a trip to Steak and Shake. The Lord has blessed me with some amazing strong women who have set the bar pretty high for what it means to be a good mother and just a good person in general. I am thankful every day for their influence and fully blame each of them for any good thing I may have in me. Happy Mothers’ Day!
Posted on: Sun, 11 May 2014 03:03:01 +0000
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