Memories of Mama

Published 7:42 pm Friday, May 10, 2024

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In memory, Mama came by the other day.

I was putting out a few bedding plants when she came.

It was one of those late spring afternoons when you just want to get your hands in the dirt. A soft breeze was stirring, the sun was sinking and casting long, cool shadows across the yard. Birds were chirping and a couple of squirrels scampered up and down the aging pecan tree.

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I didn’t hear Mama come up but I felt her presence, just as I had so many afternoons of my life.

But I didn’t turn.

I didn’t want to face the reality of the emptiness that Mama’s death has left in my life.

I just wanted to stay there where Mama was as fresh in my memory as the dirt I had turned … as fresh as the sweet smell of the honeysuckle vine climbing the backyard fence.

Funny, how the senses can bring back a memory so vivid and real that it takes you back to a place in time where you long to be.

I treasure the times when Mama would stop by and we would sit on the back porch and talk and laugh until her watch told her it was about time for her show “Wheel of Fortune.”

Early Friday morning the flashing lightening and crashing thunder turned my thoughts to Mama. She was afraid of many things; snakes, tramps, dogs, darkness, spoiled food, but most of all bad weather.

As I stood at the window and looked into the darkness, I thought of how much Mama remains a part of my life.

Every day, I think of Mama and every day I call her name: I’m looking for Mama’s frying pan.  I can’t remember if Mama put baking powder in her cornbread. I’ve got to water Mama’s plants. I know what Mama would say about that! I sure wish Mama was here.

Standing looking out the window in the wee hours Friday morning, I knew Mama would be walking the floor and looking out every window at the bad weather and talking to the Lord.

And I thought about when I was a little girl, Mama always made get on the bed during bad weather and stay there!

At that moment, the lighting flashed and I heard Mama’s voice, “Don’t stand in front of the window when it’s lighting.”

I got back on the bed.

Sunday is Mother’s Day.

To borrow from Lewis Grizzard,

“Hug your mama today. I sure wish I could hug mine.”