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.
What are things you remember and/or love about your mama? −Maybe some things she taught you?
♡♡♡!!
ReplyDeleteThanks Amy. I'm a glad you read and like my post! 💓
DeleteThanks Connie!!
ReplyDeleteYou're so welcome, Skip. Thanks for reading my post.
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