In the last week my cousin has sent me at least five “odes to mother”. That is five more than everyone else on my email list – combined! Has Mother’s Day been transformed into another commercial holiday? Are we jaded? Do we take moms and motherhood for granted?
Not my cousin. So much in fact I wanted her to write this commentary. Her response – “Thanks, but I just can’t cuz………I’m just not ready…………………………………..be kind and just know that it is just to soon. I miss her so much. 
Her mother died last year. The grief so evident is still palpable. Fresh tears fall. Her breath catches. Her chest tightens. Not just from lost, but the joy of being this woman’s daughter.
For every mother and every child everywhere – no other or better response can describe a mother. She cries because – This woman gave good love.
What she looked like? I don’t know. I’m sure she was at my cousin’s wedding, but I wasn’t there. Can’t remember why. But I wish I had gone. We like knowing the picture matches the face.
My picture is a medium tall woman, soft hair to stroke, used hands which imparted wisdom, strong legs to prove the journey could be made, and a heart … that gave out much too soon. My picture is a woman who knew the world wasn’t fair but so what … if you get pissed every time somebody does something you got no time for you to get anything done. My picture is a woman who demanded perfection but loved with mercy and forgiveness. My picture is a woman who wished the world a little better for her children; never dreaming the world was better for them because of her. My picture is a woman who knew how to laugh (you gotta have a big laugh to be in our family), showed how to live, and others wish had never died. My picture is a woman who gave much, left much, and is missed much more. “Her smile lit up the world,” my cousin says.
She was not perfect. I’m sure her children and friends could tell some stories. Some funny. Too many sad. All poignant – because they love her enough to want to remember.
My picture is a woman who seems too good to be true.
And maybe it is … too good to be true.
Maybe it doesn’t even come close to describing her.
Maybe if you got a bunch of other folks together the things they’d say …
As we get older, our minds forget more than we remember. And what we remember is more couched in the past cuz, face it, not much future left. And what we do remember, is biased by our experience.
You can’t get two people to remember the same thing the same way if you tried. Sometimes it’s so bad you think – “Were you really there?” “I know I’m not crazy? (as you also think, “am I?”)
Furthermore in death, unlike in life, folks can take on a halo quality. Those turdy things they did just don’t seem so bad. “They were no big deal. Why speak ill of the dead? They’re gone and can’t defend themselves.” So dirt isn’t just swept under the rug, you don’t see it. And if you do – “That little spot? It’s nothing.” Personally I’m scared to talk about dead people cuz I think they can still hear you. So any dirt I got, I say up front. They don’t hear anything they don’t already know.
So maybe my picture of her mother is more skewed than an honest politician.
I don’t care.
I don’t think she would either.
My cousin doesn’t care. I hope.
My cousin loved and loves her mother.
My cousin – well if her mother is a smidgen of the person she is, she was a daggone fine right woman.
My cousin has peace with her mother.
My cousin had right her relationship with her mother.
For that to happen – Mama gave and my cousin received good love.
It don’t work otherwise (and yes I know that’s bad grammar). Get over it. It’s Mother’s Day.
Happy Mama’s Day cuz’s mama. You Gave Good Love. And we thank you.
