5.9.2010
Mother’s Day.
Where did this come from? A day set aside to honor our mothers and motherhood. A quick search on the www gave me a new take on this date. I was surprised to find that it is a world wide celebration in one form or another. So much for my conspiracy theory involving a card manufacturer set on exacting guilt from a society to reap large amounts of cash.
This day for me has been an accumulation of memories. Some I hold dear – the ones of my small son delivering me a handmade card along with a ‘gift’ his dad felt would be just what I had always wanted. Other memories are the bittersweet ones of my mom and the vacancy left by her death. That loss when I was 35 left me struggling with this day for a very long time. It seemed to only serve as a reminder that she was gone and I leaned
toward the melancholy memories rather than rejoicing in the time I had been given perhaps because she died a week before mother’s day.
It has been a long time coming that I have finally reckoned with this day. I can walk outside my house to smell the May blooming star jasmine – her favorite – without being taken down to tears. I can watch her transplanted amaryllis bloom, whispering the stories of her life and that of her mom’s (very huge bulbs that have survived moving from her childhood home to reside with her for 30 years and then to my yard).
Momma ~
Who was this one person; her reflection dwells within my soul. Very few people knew her, yet those few walked away with a deeper sense of themselves. A thinker; one who contemplated all mysteries. A God-fearing woman who was held hostage by her own frailty. I have often wondered if she wasn’t in daily reconciliation with a higher power.
As a young child she suffered a high, lasting fever. The final prescription from the local town doctor – strychnine. ‘It will either kill her or cure her’. This was later believed to be the source for her muscular atrophy. You might say that she began her life in what seemed an accelerated act of dying sooner rather than later.
She raised her children with a vigorous desire as her time may be stolen before she was done. Our lives were tended like careful gardens, seeded with many profound conversations that comfort me still. I found her with three year old Timothy sitting quietly on her lap; murmurings too low for me to hear – this not long before she left us. When I ask what they were up to, it didn’t surprise me when she said that she was just telling him things that later he would need to know.
So, today I think on Momma. I have found a serenity in my heart that knows I was more blessed for her short years because she was always busy living harder than she might done otherwise.
Dorothy Arnold Horton, nee Pepper – March 1, 1933 – May 3, 1993
A tenacious spirit to defy the odds – outliving all predictions
A studious reader of anything that questioned ‘why’
A philosopher in her own right
A stubborn soul that spoke of her foundation
A joyful being ~ yet likened to a rainbow after a storm, fleeting but beautiful
A storyteller of our Creek heritage
A magnet that drew people back to her after their first meeting
A lover of coffee
A devoted daughter, sister; wife, grandmother ~ but always just my mom.
Early this morning I had coffee with my mom as the sweet jasmine filled the air. A pair of whip-o-wills call to each other nearby before retiring for the day just as the chorus of day birds woke to sing their jubilant songs.
We talked of all the tears and fears that mothers endure, then pride that finally comes when you see your child bring to fruition all your desires.
We reminisced about the bold personalities of her four sisters, the loving sternness of her dad that was an equal balance to her mother’s gentleness.
But mostly she and I came to terms today about those last pain-filled hours as I sat holding her hand, watching as she slowly drifted from me. After all speech had left her – with distraught eyes that held me captive as if she had something that desperately needed to be said. Those eyes that have haunted my dreams were not a sorrowful cry to not leave this world, but a beckoning for me to let go of what she knew I’d tote around like unnecessary baggage and to just get on with being busy at living.
I caught a reflection of myself and thought – I am my mother’s daughter.
~..~
Where did this come from? A day set aside to honor our mothers and motherhood. A quick search on the www gave me a new take on this date. I was surprised to find that it is a world wide celebration in one form or another. So much for my conspiracy theory involving a card manufacturer set on exacting guilt from a society to reap large amounts of cash.
This day for me has been an accumulation of memories. Some I hold dear – the ones of my small son delivering me a handmade card along with a ‘gift’ his dad felt would be just what I had always wanted. Other memories are the bittersweet ones of my mom and the vacancy left by her death. That loss when I was 35 left me struggling with this day for a very long time. It seemed to only serve as a reminder that she was gone and I leaned
toward the melancholy memories rather than rejoicing in the time I had been given perhaps because she died a week before mother’s day.
It has been a long time coming that I have finally reckoned with this day. I can walk outside my house to smell the May blooming star jasmine – her favorite – without being taken down to tears. I can watch her transplanted amaryllis bloom, whispering the stories of her life and that of her mom’s (very huge bulbs that have survived moving from her childhood home to reside with her for 30 years and then to my yard).
Momma ~
Who was this one person; her reflection dwells within my soul. Very few people knew her, yet those few walked away with a deeper sense of themselves. A thinker; one who contemplated all mysteries. A God-fearing woman who was held hostage by her own frailty. I have often wondered if she wasn’t in daily reconciliation with a higher power.
As a young child she suffered a high, lasting fever. The final prescription from the local town doctor – strychnine. ‘It will either kill her or cure her’. This was later believed to be the source for her muscular atrophy. You might say that she began her life in what seemed an accelerated act of dying sooner rather than later.
She raised her children with a vigorous desire as her time may be stolen before she was done. Our lives were tended like careful gardens, seeded with many profound conversations that comfort me still. I found her with three year old Timothy sitting quietly on her lap; murmurings too low for me to hear – this not long before she left us. When I ask what they were up to, it didn’t surprise me when she said that she was just telling him things that later he would need to know.
So, today I think on Momma. I have found a serenity in my heart that knows I was more blessed for her short years because she was always busy living harder than she might done otherwise.
Dorothy Arnold Horton, nee Pepper – March 1, 1933 – May 3, 1993
A tenacious spirit to defy the odds – outliving all predictions
A studious reader of anything that questioned ‘why’
A philosopher in her own right
A stubborn soul that spoke of her foundation
A joyful being ~ yet likened to a rainbow after a storm, fleeting but beautiful
A storyteller of our Creek heritage
A magnet that drew people back to her after their first meeting
A lover of coffee
A devoted daughter, sister; wife, grandmother ~ but always just my mom.
Early this morning I had coffee with my mom as the sweet jasmine filled the air. A pair of whip-o-wills call to each other nearby before retiring for the day just as the chorus of day birds woke to sing their jubilant songs.
We talked of all the tears and fears that mothers endure, then pride that finally comes when you see your child bring to fruition all your desires.
We reminisced about the bold personalities of her four sisters, the loving sternness of her dad that was an equal balance to her mother’s gentleness.
But mostly she and I came to terms today about those last pain-filled hours as I sat holding her hand, watching as she slowly drifted from me. After all speech had left her – with distraught eyes that held me captive as if she had something that desperately needed to be said. Those eyes that have haunted my dreams were not a sorrowful cry to not leave this world, but a beckoning for me to let go of what she knew I’d tote around like unnecessary baggage and to just get on with being busy at living.
I caught a reflection of myself and thought – I am my mother’s daughter.
~..~
5.4.2010
jour•nal
Pronunciation: \ˈjər-nəl\
Function: noun
1a: an account of day-to-day events
1b : a record of experiences, ideas, or reflections kept regularly for private use
I decided to use this space, in addition to my scrapbook pages, to log my daily musings, general observances and just plan useless information.
It’s a good thing to take stock of life lessons and blessings; make sure you aren’t keeping unnecessary crap stuffed into boxes to mold. I guess some folks do this at the 1st of January – New Year resolutions and such, but starting a few years ago my life seems cycles back around on itself about this time of year. So this is my spiritual spring cleaning – good for soul.
This past year it has had ups and downs but as a whole been a very excellent one. The prior one was littered with so many challenges I was worn to a nub and in serious need of a renewal of heart and mind. The vacation last May was where I found my footing and with the grace of God this year has been so much smoother.
I’ve developed an even stronger relationship with Tim. It is so amazing to spend time with him as a young adult instead the child I was parenting. I’ve always like his ways, but I definitely love him more every day. His quick humor and love of being satirical keeps me thinking of ways to outwit him. He is honorable and loyal. Two traits I admire most and humbled that my son possesses them.
My house grew by one – Angelica is staying with us until she finishes her BA at our local university. She is not only my niece, but one of my favorite people; she brings so much life and happiness to our house. She treats Tim like a big sister and he torments her right back. I’ll wager they will be good friends for all their lives.
I never forget that my greatest blessing is my loving husband who stands behind me, with me through thick and thin; never hesitates to pulls me out of quagmires that I wander off into. I only have to look to him to see the wonderful strengths he’s taught our son. We are a rare couple who actually looks forward to any and all time we can spend together ~ a matched pair ~ no matter if we are sitting quietly together in the evenings, working around the house or finding a new adventure.
Yes, my spring ‘year-in-review’ has reminds me that you never stop learning and growing from experiences. Instead of depending on my own feeble understanding ~ I’ve relearned to give it to God. My walk is not as strong as I want but each day I strive harder that it’s closer with Christ. If I can be a reflection of His grace for the many things I am thankful for then I feel accomplished.
jour•nal
Pronunciation: \ˈjər-nəl\
Function: noun
1a: an account of day-to-day events
1b : a record of experiences, ideas, or reflections kept regularly for private use
I decided to use this space, in addition to my scrapbook pages, to log my daily musings, general observances and just plan useless information.
It’s a good thing to take stock of life lessons and blessings; make sure you aren’t keeping unnecessary crap stuffed into boxes to mold. I guess some folks do this at the 1st of January – New Year resolutions and such, but starting a few years ago my life seems cycles back around on itself about this time of year. So this is my spiritual spring cleaning – good for soul.
This past year it has had ups and downs but as a whole been a very excellent one. The prior one was littered with so many challenges I was worn to a nub and in serious need of a renewal of heart and mind. The vacation last May was where I found my footing and with the grace of God this year has been so much smoother.
I’ve developed an even stronger relationship with Tim. It is so amazing to spend time with him as a young adult instead the child I was parenting. I’ve always like his ways, but I definitely love him more every day. His quick humor and love of being satirical keeps me thinking of ways to outwit him. He is honorable and loyal. Two traits I admire most and humbled that my son possesses them.
My house grew by one – Angelica is staying with us until she finishes her BA at our local university. She is not only my niece, but one of my favorite people; she brings so much life and happiness to our house. She treats Tim like a big sister and he torments her right back. I’ll wager they will be good friends for all their lives.
I never forget that my greatest blessing is my loving husband who stands behind me, with me through thick and thin; never hesitates to pulls me out of quagmires that I wander off into. I only have to look to him to see the wonderful strengths he’s taught our son. We are a rare couple who actually looks forward to any and all time we can spend together ~ a matched pair ~ no matter if we are sitting quietly together in the evenings, working around the house or finding a new adventure.
Yes, my spring ‘year-in-review’ has reminds me that you never stop learning and growing from experiences. Instead of depending on my own feeble understanding ~ I’ve relearned to give it to God. My walk is not as strong as I want but each day I strive harder that it’s closer with Christ. If I can be a reflection of His grace for the many things I am thankful for then I feel accomplished.
FaceBook... thinking out loud
New Look for A Slice of East Texas.
I love FB; love how easy it is to keep up friends and family. Personal favorite is the odd exchanges with my son ~ quirky one that he is. I greatly enjoy the quick little notes, small talk about the current events happening in our lives and the odd little quizzes that appear from folks. You can post a few pictures and check back to see what responses they stir up. Find folks from years gone by and catch up on the news. Yep, FB is a nifty way to say howdy, what cha doin’?
But as most know – I’m a very yaky type gal that often has more to say than most would care to read; hence – take it over to the blog. That’s what a blog was made for – am I right – to blog.
It’s really a journal type of thing so if you care to read the ramblings of a golden aged citizen you just might find I’m pretty eccentric on most days. It’s just one of the many things I love about being over 50… you can generally get away with peculiar ways. Feel free to comment as long as you are nice about it.
I love FB; love how easy it is to keep up friends and family. Personal favorite is the odd exchanges with my son ~ quirky one that he is. I greatly enjoy the quick little notes, small talk about the current events happening in our lives and the odd little quizzes that appear from folks. You can post a few pictures and check back to see what responses they stir up. Find folks from years gone by and catch up on the news. Yep, FB is a nifty way to say howdy, what cha doin’?
But as most know – I’m a very yaky type gal that often has more to say than most would care to read; hence – take it over to the blog. That’s what a blog was made for – am I right – to blog.
It’s really a journal type of thing so if you care to read the ramblings of a golden aged citizen you just might find I’m pretty eccentric on most days. It’s just one of the many things I love about being over 50… you can generally get away with peculiar ways. Feel free to comment as long as you are nice about it.
What you see
Note: Moved this one up because... it's a favorite... originally scrapped 2 yrs ago.While looking through my pictures I find I keep coming back to this one... Why? Because this one shows the simple pleasure being quite, gazing at nothing particular, for an endless period of time.
Rick is lost in thought as he views what may ~ or may not ~ wander under the dock. Or perhaps he sees more than I will know.
Our new pup is unusually still, napping in the warm afternoon sun, or perhaps seeking her own thoughts of nothing.
It was the peacefulness of the photo that draws me back to it. It was a single leaf caught in a tangle of brush. It was the pure contemplation, someone long gone from us, that captured my attention and imagination for this moment. Blend it all together, it speaks volumes to my soul.
vlm
FRESH VEGGIESRick enlarged the small vegetable garden, poured a concrete footer for the blocks to sit on. In the works... cover the blocks with a rock facade, install a critter proof fence around the inside and a little gate. He always puts so much energy into any bright idea we come up with ~ just one of 10,000 reasons that I love him ~ his attention to detail. Then on to the extended patio with steps down the sloping yard and I will be a happy woman (at least until the next project).
