Shortly after dad died we moved mom into Samaritan
Village in Hughson. She was to start out
her life there in a little apartment. We
were told as her disease got worse she would progress to different parts of
Samaritan Village according to the care she needed. She stayed there only a couple of years when
they notified us we would have to find another place for her. I was shocked and very disappointed. During the next few years we had to move mom
several times to places that could accommodate her failing health.
I visited mom nearly every day every place she
went. When we moved her to Brandel
Manor, just two blocks away, I visited her two and three times a day. As she got weaker our visits got shorter and
shorter. Mom passed away in the few
minutes she was alone between a visit with me and a visit with Robin. Robin is the one who discovered her
dead.
Yes…I Remember Mama
Where did her patience come from? She always had such an inexhaustible supply. Our home, so often full of giggling girls, never seemed to wear her out or tire her spirits. There was always room for an extra friend for the afternoon or the weekend or even on our family vacations. Mom always had time to stop in her busy day and share some wonderful secret with me or gently correct me in some error that I’d made.
Yes I remember Mama!
Where did her unchanging beauty come from? Surely not only from the bottles on her dresser, for even though she was by far the prettiest mother sitting in our church on any Sunday morning, never was she more beautiful than when she would come running to my bedside in the middle of the night when I had called out to her for help or comfort. She was always so soft and she always smelled so good.
Yes I remember Mama!
Where did she get her magic? I remember how she always made me feel special and pretty on days when I felt neither. I remember how her arms around me could make just about any problems seem smaller and most disappear completely. I remember how she cared so tenderly and constantly for my baby brother when he arrived and how she seemed to delight in him. She made being a mother seem to be the most natural and wonderful thing in the whole world. It must have been all those years of watching her happiness and contentment that made me want to grow up to be just like her.
Yes I remember Mama!
Where did her time and strength come from? I know I fall short in the patience department when I think of mom. I wonder if she might have some wonderful secret recipe for making extra time and patience. Somehow my shirts are never ironed so crisply, my hair is always more disheveled and the weeds in my garden are always thicker. My windows don’t have the sparkle of hers, neither do my floors, even her chocolate chip cookies taste better than mine. It’s not that I don’t take pride in what I do, it’s just that my mother had a special talent, she was a wonder.
Yes I remember Mama!
Where did she get her wisdom? I remember how she overlooked countless mistakes and encouraged me even in my smallest successes. I never felt she was ashamed of me or embarrassed because of me. I remember how proud I’ve always been of her and how we have always loved each other. She accepted my husband as she accepted me…without hesitation. She loved and cared for each of my babies as they have come one by one into our family, and she taught me even more about a mothers love by the way she loved her grandchildren. She seemed like such a “natural” at being a grandmother. Through all my years she supported me, laughed with me, cried with me, and loved me. Someday I hope to be just like her.
Yes I remember Mama! 1985 For Mothers Day - Joyce
Where did her patience come from? She always had such an inexhaustible supply. Our home, so often full of giggling girls, never seemed to wear her out or tire her spirits. There was always room for an extra friend for the afternoon or the weekend or even on our family vacations. Mom always had time to stop in her busy day and share some wonderful secret with me or gently correct me in some error that I’d made.
Yes I remember Mama!
Where did her unchanging beauty come from? Surely not only from the bottles on her dresser, for even though she was by far the prettiest mother sitting in our church on any Sunday morning, never was she more beautiful than when she would come running to my bedside in the middle of the night when I had called out to her for help or comfort. She was always so soft and she always smelled so good.
Yes I remember Mama!
Where did she get her magic? I remember how she always made me feel special and pretty on days when I felt neither. I remember how her arms around me could make just about any problems seem smaller and most disappear completely. I remember how she cared so tenderly and constantly for my baby brother when he arrived and how she seemed to delight in him. She made being a mother seem to be the most natural and wonderful thing in the whole world. It must have been all those years of watching her happiness and contentment that made me want to grow up to be just like her.
Yes I remember Mama!
Where did her time and strength come from? I know I fall short in the patience department when I think of mom. I wonder if she might have some wonderful secret recipe for making extra time and patience. Somehow my shirts are never ironed so crisply, my hair is always more disheveled and the weeds in my garden are always thicker. My windows don’t have the sparkle of hers, neither do my floors, even her chocolate chip cookies taste better than mine. It’s not that I don’t take pride in what I do, it’s just that my mother had a special talent, she was a wonder.
Yes I remember Mama!
Where did she get her wisdom? I remember how she overlooked countless mistakes and encouraged me even in my smallest successes. I never felt she was ashamed of me or embarrassed because of me. I remember how proud I’ve always been of her and how we have always loved each other. She accepted my husband as she accepted me…without hesitation. She loved and cared for each of my babies as they have come one by one into our family, and she taught me even more about a mothers love by the way she loved her grandchildren. She seemed like such a “natural” at being a grandmother. Through all my years she supported me, laughed with me, cried with me, and loved me. Someday I hope to be just like her.
Yes I remember Mama! 1985 For Mothers Day - Joyce
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Thank you for sharing in my life's journey. If you don't leave a comment I have no way of knowing you stopped by. I do hope you enjoy reading of my life as much as I have enjoyed living it! Joyce