A Mother’s Legacy

Seems as if December brings many beginnings and endings.  Here’s a lovely article I received from Cathy, a wonderful, talented writer. It made me reflect: The passing of parents, particularly the same-sex parent, often leaves us asking questions about our own lives; I suspect questions may be the most important legacy we receive.
Here’s Cathy’s questions.  Which do you share?
“Thirty-seven years ago today (Dec 19), my mother passed away. The phone rang at 7 a.m. I answered, and the doctor asked to speak to my dad. He sat on the edge of my bed and took the call. Then he put his head in his hands and cried hysterically. I don’t really know what happened after that. I do remember that I made the calls to my brother and sister, aunts and uncles, because my father could not.

We went to the hospital; the doctor wrote me a prescription for Valium. I never took it. We went to breakfast and had bacon, eggs and toast. I don’t remember tasting anything. We went to the funeral parlor. I picked out the coffin because my father could not. It was slate blue metallic with a blue satin lining.
After that, there were the usual preparations and condolences and services. Those I barely remember.

I wonder what she would think of me after all these years. I wonder what she DOES think of me. She visits me often. She would probably to this day tell me that I can be anything I want to be. Is that still true? Was it ever? What can I accomplish in the remainder of my life? Have I squandered it all? And, in truth, what DO I want now? That’s the difficult part.

All I know is that today I will acknowledge my mother. I will unwrap her fragile tea-cup salvaged from my dad’s apartment this year and put it in a place of honor. Just so she knows she is not forgotten.”

7 thoughts on “A Mother’s Legacy

  1. Here’s my salute to Cathy
    for the courage to do so many
    and for the capacity to do so much more.

    Thanks for the reminder to value more
    the people in my life while they are still here.

    And that tea cups are sooo lovely
    let it touch the lips that speaks love!
    🙂

    Like

  2. Reading your words reminded me that I am not alone in the sadness of a parent(s) that are not with us during this holiday season. My father passed away thirty seven years ago on December 10th, my mom two years ago this coming January. I too have many questions as I face the new year with hope and new inspiration as I read a book about Feng Shui.
    “To look backward for a while is to refresh the eye, to restore it, and to render it the more fit for its prime function of looking forward.” ~Margaret Fairless Barber

    Like

  3. Lovely. My Mom has just been gone 2 months….yours 37 years. I asked my sister how long we will miss Ma and I think you gave me answer. This is our first Christmas without Ma, but each Christmas will feel like the first one it seems. I will try to remember the good stuff!
    mo

    Like

      • Cathy: I lost my mother in April. Since a stroke in 1991 (the year my dad died), she had not been the same woman I grew up with. The stroke, then dementia, turned her into my other mother. It’s funny that while I’ve felt my dad’s presence (his habit of leaving lights on at my mother’s house to remind me of things like patience and humo(u)r), I think mom has decided to cut ties to the world she felt she had to be miserable in. And, that’s fine — I will remember both mothers even if I don’t feel their presence.
        “I wonder what she would think of me after all these years. I wonder what she DOES think of me. She visits me often. She would probably to this day tell me that I can be anything I want to be. Is that still true? Was it ever? What can I accomplish in the remainder of my life? Have I squandered it all? And, in truth, what DO I want now? That’s the difficult part.”
        I hope you find the answers to your questions: perhaps the essence of your mother can help guide you on whatever paths your future takes.

        Like

Wadda ya say? Comments HERE! (Depending on energy, I may not be able to respond to every comment but I READ every word of every comment!)

Fill in your details below or click an icon to log in:

WordPress.com Logo

You are commenting using your WordPress.com account. Log Out /  Change )

Google photo

You are commenting using your Google account. Log Out /  Change )

Twitter picture

You are commenting using your Twitter account. Log Out /  Change )

Facebook photo

You are commenting using your Facebook account. Log Out /  Change )

Connecting to %s

This site uses Akismet to reduce spam. Learn how your comment data is processed.