I miss Mama when ...

I miss Mama when...                                

 

I miss Mama when

•   the first robin of spring appears and the forsythia blooms
•   the daffodils force their way through the dirt.
•   I wear fuchsia and hear her say, “I like that blouse. It’s my favorite color.”
•  I make corn-pone-pie.
•   the snowball bush blooms.
•  I drive by my parents’ church, the one that I grew up in.
•   I drive the Blue Ridge Parkway and the rhododendron is showing off.
•   I mess up and hear her say, “Connie, Connie, Connie.”
•   we drive past that picnic spot on Route 100 in Carroll County and I almost taste her fried chicken.
•   I talk with her old friends.
•   I hear “Mack the Knife” on the radio.
•   make cut-out cookies, remembering my horrible first experience.
•   visit her brother and sister.
•   I make cornbread.
•   I wear her jewelry.
•  I think of how much she loved dogs, and squirrels, and birds, and clouds, and ...
•   look at old photos.
•   sit by the ocean.
•  I think of how she would get mad when my brother hit her with snowballs.
•   I make pineapple upside-down cake, adding her secret touch.
•   it’s Mother’s Day and I must wear a white corsage instead of pink.
•  I wish I could have one more conversation, one more hug, and tell her I love her just one more time.

Do I wish she was here instead of where she is now residing? Not at all!

Because right now she’s eternally in her prime; she’s pain free and trouble free. She’s beholding beauty beyond anything we can imagine. 

She has been reunited with my brother, Tommy; with her own precious parents and my Daddy who joined her just a couple of months after she left us. And best of all she’s with her beloved Savior, Jesus, who had already prepared a new home for her. 

I think often of what my friend, Anna, said to me a couple weeks after Mama’s home-going: “She’s having more fun than we are right now.”

How very true, Anna. I ponder that as I cherish the memories of my dear Mama.

Happy Mother’s Day, Mama.

What are some favorite things about your mother? Please share in comments below. Thanks.

©Copyright 2017 Connie Wohlford

Thanks, but I’ll pass on the Mother’s Day corsage.

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

As I said, she used few words but all the things listed above, plus more, she and Daddy exemplified with joy and selflessness. All my growing-up years Mama worked outside the home but somehow found time to teach Sunday School, have the visiting missionaries and evangelists over for dinner, visit anyone in the family or our church who was in the hospital, take food to  shut-ins, and attend her kids sports, school, and church events.
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.



 

                                       

I don’t wear a corsage on Mother’s Day any more. I really can’t bear the thought of wearing a white one. On a happy note− Mama and I will have some catching up to do when I join her in Heaven someday and I’ll finally get to meet my Grandma Ethel. I know Grandma Ethel is proud of the godly woman her little girl became.





Mama & Me
 
What are things you remember and/or love about your mama? −Maybe some things she taught you?