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The Wreck (May 11, 2007)

Happy Mother's Day, Mom

May, 2007

I asked a few friends to send me a memory of their Mother for Mothers Day and here are a few stories I received.....

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A Mothers' Day Memory from my friend Andrea...

My mom passed away 19 years ago. But I had a special thought of her today when I remembered an incident when I was in the first or second grade.

We had made corsages in school for our moms out of carnations we made from kleenex tissues. When I got off the bus, I dropped my corsage and it landed in a puddle of water. I was heartbroken and ran home crying. I didn’t want to tell my mom what happened because the corsage was suppose to be a surprise. After she calmed me down and dried my tears, and gave me a few hugs, she convinced me tell her what happened. We walked back to the bus stop where she retrieved the damp corsage from the puddle. She then made a big fuss over how beautiful it was and how much she loved it. We walked home hand-in-hand, she dried and fluffed the corsage, and being the great mom she was -- she actually wore that wilted corsage in public on Mother’s day.

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From another friend who was explaining why it was difficult to think of a good story to tell. She said she would get back to me then went on about their innate conflicts.  Without her realizing it, she had written the best story, leaving me to weep...

My mom and I didn't get along very well in the teenage years. The cute years were, of course, before I discovered I had a voice and a brain and could still be controlled. She'll be gone 2 years July 13. I remember looking at her, while putting her to bed one nite before she passed, and telling her how sorry I was. That particular sorry encompassed my wrongs, her disease and just everything under the sun. She said,"Me too."

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A story about my own mom...

When I was young and my parents were going through a divorce, every weekend brought a wave of sadness because I and my sister had to leave first one parent to visit the other, then the other parent to go back home. After some time I showed signs of depression and my parents felt I wasn't getting any quality time out of either of them. My mom, perhaps detecting my depression, decided to pick me up (without my sister) and take me to her place for the night. Just the two of us. We walked to the storeto get a couple of pints of fabulous ice cream, a package or two of cookies, then went back to indulge in a decadent evening of sugar and TV. I remember enjoying for the first time Tin Roof ice cream while we watched Night Gallery. That simple evening proved to me a life lesson - that the smallest attention to a child can change their life for the better.

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A very cute story from my sister...

One night, when I was about 8 years old, mom gathered the family - my dad & sister and I - at the dinner table. She had a different kind of dinner for us. I remember being so impressed and thinking my mom was the coolest thing ever. Looking back, the dinner was peanut butter and grape jelly sandwiches cut into quarter triangles and multiples stacked pretty on a plate. It was probably 8 points of PB&J. And then she had cut up bananas and grapes in the middle of the pretty sun shape of sandwiches. As a mom I think how simple, and even maybe easier for her, this dinner was. But as a child - that was the coolest thing ever.

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A real tear-jerker from my friend Robin...

After 45 wonderful and sometimes tumultuous years of being her daughter, I'm very close to my 73 year old Mom and have far too many precious stories to share. But, the story that stands out most in my mind is when I became a Mother myself. After 13 difficult hours of induced labor and undiagnosed placenta accreta, I delivered my first child via emergency C-section. I went into respiratory arrest and my blood pressure dropped to a dangerous level. My daughter was a "blue baby" and unresponsive. She was immeditately put on life support. It was a critical situation, with both my new born daughter and myself spending three days in intensive care units. On the third night of my newborn's life, I was finally recovered enough to see my baby. My Mom went with me to the neo-natal unit where I saw my daughter for the very first time. She was hooked up to so many machines and had tubes coming out of her head, nose, and mouth. I crumbled and grabbed my Mom's hand as I struggled to understand what the nurse was telling me about my baby. The nurse assured me that my baby was doing well and would be going home with me soon. Then, she picked up my baby and put her in my arms for the first time. Overwhelmed with emotion, I began to cry uncontrollably. I looked at this beautiful baby struggling for life and then looked at my Mom, who had tears streaming down her own face. I said, "Momma, how do I take care of her?" She kissed her new grand-daughter softly on the cheek, turned to me, put her hand on my cheek, smiled and said, "With all the love in your heart." I understood then that all of the memories, both good and bad that I had shared with my Mom while I was growing up were clearly defined by one thing. My Momma's unconditional love.

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And last, but certainly the most important, a response from my own mother...

When Lacey and I, her mom, first got into computers, I bought a couple of computer problem solving mystery games, Myst and Lighthouse.  This was in approximately 1997-1998.  I think Lacey completed all of the problem solving in both games but I never did. Actually I still have those programs but don't have the time to attempt to install or play either one.   On the Lighthouse program, there was an answering machine that was one of the clues.  You had to click on it and listen to the message.  The first message which came up was something to the effect of "hello dear, this is your mother."  Both of us always got such a kick out of those words.. the woman's voice sounds as if she is a little old jewish lady with a characteristic whiney voice, and Lacey could mimic her voice perfectly (she's so talented!).  That's a memory that just the two of us share.  Earlier, in Lacey's blog, I read the postings by each of my two girls and I am so proud they have those memories.  I just wish I could remember those things too... the peanut butter & jelly sandwiches and the Lacey and Mom Only night, and a hundred other things that fall in that big black hole.  Unfortunately, I think so many of my memories of those years were destroyed by my pain of losing them and my physical separation from them when their dad moved them to Houston.  Most of my stronger and clearer memories of them go all the way back to their toddler and pre-school years.  Crystal was the neatest little kid.  She was thin and wirey.  Blonde and very light skin (her dad's side).  She was an entertainer and did so all the time!  When she was about 1-1/2 or 2 years old, there was a particular way she would walk, bent over at the waist, that we named "Groucho" and she would perform her "Groucho" on request... any request.. sometimes without a request.  When I was pregnant with Lacey, right before my due date, I bought a doll for Crystal... strategy of course, probably straight out of Dr. Spock.  The plan was to give it to Crystal when we brought the baby home.  We did and she loved it.  But soon thereafter, Crystal got hold of a jar of vaseline and completely covered that doll with it. I never quite understood what action she was mimicking.  I can't remember if I was able to get the vaseline out or not.  I have vague memories of placing that doll in the bathtub.  Perhaps I decided it was hopeless and I would just drown it.  There was another time, in the same house in Irving, when I walked into the kitchen, and both girls were covered with flour.  Their bodies, their hair, flour was everywhere.  Ironically, they were well behaved children up until they reached their teens... messy rooms were the worse. 

One of my most horrible memories happened when Lacey was about 4 years old and we had gone to my mom and dad's house in Irving.  I don't remember where the bicycles came from - they certainly were not my parents (funny how the mind can get caught up in such a little detail... where did those danged bikes come from?).  I rode one bicycle and my brother's girlfriend rode the other.  Lacey wanted to ride and stupid me, I placed her on the rear fender of the bike and off we went.. she was wearing a pair of light weight sneakers.  Those were days long before helmets and other safety devices.  We were one street over, riding very fast, and all of a sudden, my bike came to a halt.  Lacey's foot had gotten tangled up in the rear spokes and actually stopped the bicycle.  I'm sure she must have started screaming and when I got off the bike and grabbed her, I saw that all of the skin and tissue on half of the top of her foot down to her ankle was gone.  That's when I started screaming and could not stop.  I thought I had maimed my little girl.  So there we were, both screaming our heads off, sitting on a residential street curb.  My brother's girlfriend rode back and got my husband to bring the car.  We immediately took her to the emergency room at the hospital (very little blood or are my memories being kind to me?).  Luckily no bones were broken; however, there wasn't anything the docs could do for the foot.  It had to heal itself.  There wasn't anything to sew - it was just an open gash.  They gave her a set of crutches which she used for a very short time before she threw them away and refused to use them.  She devised a method of dragging herself around on the floor, keeping the affected foot suspended, and that's how she got around for the next few weeks.  After a while, the site got infected and I remember the doctor telling us that the infection was what he wanted....  now he could give her antibiotics.  Well, it sounded strange then and I think it sounds even more strange now. 

Lacey was a chubby little baby... she weighed just under 9 lbs at birth, gorgeous of course, not quite as blonde as was Crystal and Lacey's skin was darker in color than Crystal's and Lacey had the most adorable ears.  Lacey was always so independent (i.e., the crutches).  Crystal seemed to always carry a particular mischievious look on her face and frankly, was a little bossy.  Both of my girls were and continue to be gorgeous, both are intelligent and talented and are loving women.  In their early adulthood, at the appropriate time for each one, we were able to mend bridges and form deep ties.  I love and respect each one and wish we could do all those years over again - I would do them differently.  Mama Diane

Thank you, mom. You're the greatest. All my love to you.