mom — Page 2

Moms

May 8, 2022 at 9:30 am by Claudia

My mom’s name was Shirley. When I came across this book several years ago, I had to buy it. Faithful Shirley. She was that and so much more. I miss her every day.

A day of mixed feelings. I’m grateful for my wonderful mom. I wish I could have known Don’s mother, but she died before we met. So many people have complicated relationships with their mothers. So many people didn’t have a mother who was part of their daily life. So many people yearning to be a mother. And on and on.

I didn’t particularly want children – I was a late bloomer, heading off to graduate school at the age of 30 – life became very, very busy after that and even if I had wanted to have children, there was no time. I’ve always believed that the decision to have a child must be taken very seriously and I didn’t want it enough. I had my motherhood urges fulfilled by my relationships with my many students and by my beloved dogs and I’m very grateful.

I want to pay tribute to my sister who is a devoted and fierce mother to 3 sons. I stand in awe of her. Her two oldest sons dealt with serious issues while growing up and she fought for them every day. She never gave up. As adults, both of them are strong, kind, good, smart and successful – in life and in love and in simply being decent human beings. And of course, there’s Little Z – I don’t know what would have happened to him if Mere hadn’t been his therapist, almost since birth. She fell in love with him – as did the rest of the family. She fights for him every day. And he thrives because of that.

You can have no greater advocate than my sister.

I love her more than I can say. Her sons adore her. They know how lucky they are.

So Happy Mother’s Day to my sister. And to all of you who are moms, whether of human beings or animals. To all of you who miss your mothers: I’m with you. I understand. To those who have lost children, my heart is with you today. My parents deeply mourned the loss of my brother. Watching them try to cope with that loss was heartbreaking. They never fully recovered from it.

I could go on and on.

I hope your day today is exactly what you want it to be.

Stay safe.

Happy Sunday.

Mowing, Flowering Quince, and Mom

April 24, 2022 at 9:10 am by Claudia

The first mow of the season.

We had to do it. Since we live on a hill and this section is at the bottom of the hill, it gets more water runoff from the rain and the grass in front of the porch and beyond is always longer than the rest of the lawn. Since we’ve had so much rain lately, we knew that we had to tackle the lawn before it became impossible to mow.

But, boy, the first few mows are tiring, mostly because we have a push mower (which we like) and we have to navigate some hilly areas and mowing the thick grass of early spring requires some additional muscle. The rest of the property doesn’t need mowing yet.

Another beautiful sunny day today.

I have one tulip, planted years ago by a previous owner, and I look forward to seeing it bloom. Well, not this year. Some critter chomped on it and there’s nothing left. I suspect it was a deer, but it could have been a groundhog or rabbit.

I saw a flash of orange beyond the lilac bush.

The flowering quince has started to bloom.

Today is the 8th anniversary of Mom’s death. I miss her every day, but especially lately.

I love you, Mom.

Stay safe.

Happy Sunday.

Bittersweet Memories

April 7, 2022 at 8:33 am by Claudia

We’re getting a ton of rain today and tonight – close to 2 inches – once again, the remnants of the storm that has wreaked havoc in the south.

Yesterday, I was feeling down. Everything going on in the world – the invasion of Ukraine, the devastation there, genocide, war crimes, climate change, the GOP which is now the party of Putin and fascism – all of it was constantly in my thoughts. That’s not new, but it was particularly strong yesterday.

To give myself some sort of task, I cleaned out two drawers in the little table next to my chair. Something constructive to do.

And I came across this:

Newborn baby Claudia – maybe a little over a month old?

My dear, beautiful brother with his holster and toy guns. A child of the 50s.

My mom, clearly tired, but dressed up for the photo.

My handsome dad with a rarely seen bow tie.

Barkcloth curtains. Where did they end up?

My brother David has been gone for 30 years.

Mom left us 7 years ago.

Dad left 6 years ago.

So bittersweet. I found myself missing my brother so much. He would be 74 now, 75 next month. What would he look like today? Grandchildren he never got to meet. Spouses of his three children never met. I want to reach inside that photo and hug that beautiful boy.

It would be 8 years until another child came along – that would be L, my sister who has estranged herself from everyone in the family, including cousins, nieces and nephews.

Then another 3 years until my dearest Meredith came along. My brother was 17 years old when my mom was pregnant with Mere.

It’s Mere and me now.

I miss him. I miss them.

I’ve been thinking how horrified my dad would be by the rise of nationalism and fascism, the very evils he fought against when he went to war at the age of 18.

This little photo was designed to be put in a wallet. I don’t know where I got it – from Gram? From my parents? I’m not sure.

Yes, I look very much like my mother – except for my brown eyes, which come from my Dad.

__________________________

We’re getting our Covid boosters this morning. Times have changed – we went online this morning and got the appointments for the same day.

So I’m prepping for the nap that will come later. That seems to be my reaction to the shots – crashing in the middle of the afternoon.

Stay safe.

Happy Thursday.

Moms

Mowing, Flowering Quince, and Mom

Bittersweet Memories

Lambs Like to Party

A Note

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