AND THEN AGAIN…….by Tamara Pettit

Mother’s Day……If ever there was a Hallmark Holiday designed  to produce tears and revenue it’s Mother’s Day.  Somewhere out there is a woman who just said “Doesn’t she know Anna Jarvis is responsible for the holiday and she was from West Virginia?”  Yeah, well so was Big Bill Lias and he didn’t start “mobster day” in honor of the many people he helped.’

No-one out there  thinks, “Boy, am I a great, Mother” I grant you.  Now she may think “My neighbor is a great mother and I hate her for that,” but that is just normal envy prompted by the everything I have to do she can do better and like what she’s doing.

Wikipedia says it’s a day  set aside to remember mothers.   It doesn’t work that way.  I remember my mother a lot and I don’t reserve if for a day in May.  I remember every night when I climb in bed and I hear my Mother’s voice whisper “Mother loves you.”  She never let me go to sleep, get off the phone or say goodbye without that ending salvo when she was alive and apparently even after she was dead.

My Mom was not a fabulous cook, but that never stopped her from throwing a party.   She could fry up chicken livers., chill some shrimp cocktail and do wonders with a can of cheese whip  and a box of crackers and have fun while doing it. To Mom, Jello was a food group and her challenge was to see how many ways she could serve it.

I don’t need a single day to remind me of a young girl abandoned by her mother at birth, raised at a time when being branded illegitimate was crushing, who married at 15 but who miraculously emerged as the most loving, caring person I ever knew. with a style and grace all her own not to mention a sense of self that wouldn’t quit.

No Mother’s Day for me next week..  I think I’ll celebrate mine tonight when I climb into bed and the voice in my head says “Mother, loves you!”   Tonight and every night thereafter I have the gift of her instilling her love for me in my head and my heart and in doing so instilling the ability to love my children and grandchildren as ferociously as she did. Nope, don’t need a card. I’m a living, breathing product of a mother’s love.