“My mom is a neverending song in my heart of comfort, happiness, and being. I may sometimes forget the words but I always remember the tune.”

I woke up to the sound of rain, a gentle rain. I stayed in bed a while and listened. I could also hear Gracie’s deep sleep breathing and every now and then a sigh. Today is Mother’s Day. It is the day I honor my mother and my memories of her. Last week my friend and I went out to dinner. She mentioned it was her mother’s birthday and how much she still misses her. She said no one told us it would be this hard.

Every year I post the same entry about my mother. At Easter this year my sister and I laughed about the curses she inflicted on us: the love of everything Christmas and never thinking you have enough presents for everyone, giving Easter baskets overflowing with candy and fun toys and surprising people with a gift just because.

My mother had a generosity of spirit. She was funny and smart and the belle of every ball. She always had music going in the kitchen as she worked so she could sing along. She played Frank and Tony and Johnny and from her I learned the old songs. My mother drew all the relatives, and her house was filled. My cousins visited often. She was their favorite aunty. My mother loved to play Big Boggle, and we’d sit for hours at the kitchen table and play so many games we’d lose track of the time. Christmas was always amazing, and she passed this love to all of us. We traveled together, she and I, and my mother was game for anything. I remember Italy and my mother and me after dinner at the hotel bar where she’d enjoy her cognac. She never had it any other time, but we’re on vacation she said and anything goes. I talked to her just about every day, as did my sisters. I loved it when she came to visit. We’d shop, have dinner out then play games at night. I always waited on her when was here. I figured it was the least I could do.

My mother loved extreme weather shows, TV judges and crime. She never missed Judge Judy. She also liked quiz shows and she and I used to play Jeopardy together on the phone at night. She always had a crossword puzzle book with a pen inside on the table beside her chair, and I used to try to fill in some of the blanks. On the dining room table was often a jig saw puzzle, and we all stopped to add pieces on the way to the kitchen. My mother loved a good time.

She did get feisty, and I remember flying slippers aimed at my head when I was a kid. She expertly used mother’s guilt and, “I’ll do it myself,” was her favorite weapon. We sometimes drove her crazy, and she let us know, none too quietly.We never argued over politics. She kept her opinions close. We sometimes argued over other things, but the arguments never lasted long.

I still think to reach for the phone and call my mother when I see something interesting or have a question I know only she can answer. When I woke up this morning, my first thought was of her, and I cried a little.

Explore posts in the same categories: Musings

Tags: , , , , , , ,

Both comments and pings are currently closed.

19 Comments on ““My mom is a neverending song in my heart of comfort, happiness, and being. I may sometimes forget the words but I always remember the tune.””

  1. Bill S. Says:

    This is the first year without my mom, who died in July 2012. I had been to see her in Florida in June for her 94th birthday. She thought she was 95, so that’s what we put on the cake. Maybe we’ll all be like that at that age.

    We going to my father-in-law’s in Nashua later for Mothers’ Day. Peg and Lisa are the only mothers in our local family, but we also celebrate Peg’s mom today. She died four years ago.

    Check this out–it’s for all those we know who have passed: http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=AogFLMHCvCA

  2. katry Says:

    Bill,
    Thank you for Loreena! My mother died 7 years ago last October. We were all with her to say good-bye. I still have a hole in my heart.

    I’m so glad you were there for her birthday, and I got a chuckle from the 95. I’d just like to get that age!!

    Have a great day with your father-in-law. Love to Peg and Lisa on this Mother’s Day!!

  3. Vintage Spins Says:

    Kat,
    I’m glad you have such wonderful and happy memories of the times spent with your mom. It’s sad that we can’t all look back with such gratitude and love.

    This is for the ‘Coffee’ crowd – I hope all of you have memories that are similar to Kat’s. (I’m sorry, but I don’t know how to create a link in a comment, so you’ll have to cut and paste.)

    https://www.box.com/s/b92skz6co8v2u6ka97vf

    Marie

    • katry Says:

      Marie,
      What a great song!! That will appear on future Mother’s Day.

      The link worked perfectly-not a cut or paste at all!!

  4. Vintage Spins Says:

    Oh, the link happens all by itself! So you won’t have to cut and paste at all! 😉

    Marie

  5. Vintage Spins Says:

    The Fairfield Four were one of the greatest black gospel groups, whose recordings go back to the ’40s. This 45 is regarded highly by collectors of classic doo wop and vocal group records. Recorded in 1960 at the RCA Victor Studios in Nashville, Tennessee.

    Marie

  6. Bob Says:

    The memories of my mother are so faded I can’t even remember the sound of her voice. The photos are all fading along with my memories. The scanned images are backed up for my kids to show their children pictures of grandma.

    I remember her throwing shoes at us in frustration when we were kids. My dad was a salesman who traveled during the week leaving her with two small children at a time when woman were not expected to run the household. I remember her calling the TV repairman who came to our house and plugged the TV into the wall socket for five dollars. I remember her learning to drive only five years before her illness. She never thought that she could drive a car but mastered the task out of necessity. We took a vacation to Disneyland the first year it opened in 1955. I remember her standing on the corner of Hollywood Boulevard and Vine Street waiting to spot a movie star. None showed up to her disappointment. She died in January of 1961 after a long battle with cancer when I was 13 years old. I am always sad on Mother’s Day that my mother never got to see my graduation, my marriage and mostly my kids. They were deprived of having an over protective and slightly neurotic grand mother. My father never remarried and he has been gone now for over 10 years. His memory is also fading but I have video of him playing with my kids to help keep his memory alive. My kids only know their paternal grandmother from my slightly edited stories.

    Today is another clear and beautiful day with warm temperatures. Hallmark and all the florists couldn’t be happier.

    • katry Says:

      Bob,
      I’m sorry the memories are fading. They are what I hold on to the hardest. I use the gripe of a lifetime.

      She died when you were so young it is easy to understand why things are fading, but you just shared a whole bunch of memories. Thank you!! She knew her four grandsons and one granddaughter. She’d be tickled pink by having two great-grandchildren. She was a wonderful grandmother.

      I have such fun memories of her.

      • Bob Says:

        Unfortunately, my two kids are too young to have children. My 19 year old daughter will never have them because she has Down Syndrome and my 16 year old son, well I doubt any sane woman would want to marry him until he matures which may take many more years. He doesn’t have any girlfriends that I know about. Hopefully, when and if my son does have a family he will be able to show his kids photos of their great grandmother.

        You are right about my keeping some of her memories alive. I only wish that we had tape recorders in those days to record her voice.

      • katry Says:

        Bob,
        We wished we had recorded my grandfather. He had the best family stories.

        One of my nephews got married at 24 and has a nearly 7 year old. Another is 30 and has no girlfriend. I think the 2 grand-nephews I have will be it for a long while.

  7. olof1 Says:

    I think I say the same thing every year too, she sounds truly wonderful 🙂

    Mothers day comes last Sunday in May up here.
    Christer.

  8. Coleen Burnett Says:

    One of many stories about my mom:

    When I got my driver’s permit she would let me drive her huge 1964 Mercury Marquis. What a bus!

    She wanted me to learn to parallel park. In those days the blue laws meant the local mall was closed with no traffic. I can practice in a big parking lot. So off we go.

    She has 4 small traffic cones placed strategically so I can ease into the so-called space. Its windy and the cones are blowing all over. One item she has in the trunk to anchor one of the cones is an ax.

    So she pulls it out and starts to walk toward a cone. Somebody’s been watching because the next thing we know, a mall cop drives up, rolls down his window, and simply says, “Lady, what are you doing with that?”

    She was a diabetic who died at 49 because she smoked and drank and never took care of herself. She was widowed at an early age and had to raise me. Everybody loved her. I miss her AND my Dad..

    Coleen

    • katry Says:

      Hi Coleen,
      My mother was 78 when she died. My Dad was only in his mid-60’s. He had high blood pressure and hated taking the medicine. He had a heart attack which I swear wouldn’t have happened if he had taken his medicine. It was just so horribly sudden.
      We were all devastated when she died.

      My mother had cancer.

      49 is so young.

  9. Lori Kossowsky Says:

    I loved my mom so very much. She died when on my 25th birthday when she was 57. I miss her everyday..it was the first real grief of my life.
    Waving, Lori

  10. Birgit Says:

    Happy Daughter-of-your-mother Day!
    (She can’t celebrate it anymore, but you can.)
    Today is also Mother’s Day over here, but I don’t miss my mother. You can’t chose your parents. Nevertheless I enjoyed all the lovely music and stories on your blog today.

    • katry Says:

      Birgit,
      Great greeting!!

      No, you can’t choose your relatives. My father aways said, though I thought it a bit crass, “You can pick your nose but not your relatives. “


Comments are closed.


%d bloggers like this: