Thanks, but I’ll pass on the Mother’s Day corsage.
It’s been nearly three years since Mama went to Heaven. Ya, know, I miss her in so many ways. It surprises me sometimes when I do a simple thing and think, “Mama taught me this.”
I could go through the long list of usual Mama-taught things, like being honesty, fairness, cleanliness, good manners, kindness, and so on.As a Christian, she (along with Daddy) taught my brothers and me to love God, believe in Jesus, study my Bible, tithe, give to missions, help to pour, comfort the bereaved, visit the sick and lonely, be hospitable, be generous, and other things that would please God and demonstrate faith. She didn’t use many words to teach us these godly practices. She taught more by example.
|Rudy & Edith Edwards, my parents|
But the little things that are a part of my every day, cause me to miss her the most. Just the other day as I picked lilacs, tears filled my eyes− she always had such beautiful, fragrant lilacs.
I think of her every time I add a pinch of salt into cake icing or any confection, even though the recipe doesn’t call for it. I hear her say, “It’s a flavor enhancer. Just a little will enhance the flavor.” (It really does.)
In the early spring when my hyacinth bloom, their fragrance fills the room and my thoughts. She seemed to enjoy saying that word− “hyacinth.”
I think of her when I deadhead my iris and even see her pinching any dead blossoms I may have missed. She was duty-bound to purge the spent blossoms if there were any to be found.
|Edith Burcham Edwards|
When my peonies bloom she comes to mind because she dug up part of hers to give me some starts for our own yard. I hold back tears as I cut a bouquet and wonder why my blossoms never seem to be as big as hers.
Occasionally I use cloth napkins just because. I finally realized it’s because it reminds me of Mama getting them out for special company and special occasions. I even still have the ones we used when I was a little girl.
On Mother’s Day at church, she would be given a white carnation corsage and I was always given a pink one. She explained that we had different colors because her mother was dead and mine was still living. I would look at her white courage and grieve on the inside, for that little 9 year old girl whose Mama had died. I could not imagine it.
Mama & Me
What are things you remember and/or love about your mama? −Maybe some things she taught you?