Mother’s Day


 

In this faded photograph, my mother is helping my sister Sheryll celebrate her first birthday. (Mmm, cake!)  Three days later, I made my grand entrance. That story, my story, would later became the centerpiece of my father’s faith-healing revival meetings.

 

I can think of so many questions I’d love to ask my mother—about these events, yes, and so many thereafter. In my Hallmark-inspired dreams, she indulges me this cozy conversation whilst we sit at my backyard bistro table, admiring the flowers and sipping Earl Gray tea. But unfortunately (and I doubt I’m alone in this), the realities of our mother-daughter relationship were far more complicated than this fantasy might suggest. She wasn’t a forthcoming individual by any means, and she took many secrets to her grave.

 

Melancholy musings, these, but maybe an important reminder, as well.   

 

Whether or not you’re writing a memoir, I encourage you to ask your mother as many questions as possible. Do it now, while she’s willing and able to answer!  Your family will appreciate that you’ve kept alive the memories of the matriarchs that helped shape their destiny. And while listening to your mother’s stories, it’s likely you’ll discover some amazing things about yourself. 
 

Looking for ways to jump-start the conversation? Consider these:

Ten Questions To Ask Your Mother Now

The Best Mother’s Day Gift Ever

Happy Mother’s Day, everyone!

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30 Comments

    • it’s a lovely picture and your mom looks nothing like the gargantuan being that I was 3 days before childbirth! Alas I too have a very complicated relationship with my mother so I’m sure that she’ll take many secrets when she goes as well.

      • LOL! I think those smocks hid more than today’s maternity clothes.

        I hope someday your mother will reach out to you in truth and love. (hugs)

      • She’s 94. My daughter and I would dearly love to take her back to Minnesota, where her grandparents had given land back to the native peoples, and hear the stories again in their setting, before they are lost. (My daughter the film maker would shoot it all.) But all that presupposes money, alas.

  3. Anonymous

    sneaking this in from work…

    So many things I’d like to ask my mother if she were still alive. Plus I’m convinced I’m turning INTO her b/c some of the stuff that comes out of my mouth sounds exactly like her. So weird!!!

    Happy Mother’s Day, Melodye! xx Jen

    • Re: sneaking this in from work…

      Isn’t it strange, how we sometimes channel our mothers–from facial expressions to verbal tics?

      Happy Mother’s Day, Jen. You’re a great mama, I just know it. xoxo

  5. Good thoughts — I’m very fortunate that my mom and I have such a strong relationship. We can share almost anything…but I know there are many things she wished she could have asked *her* mom, who died when I was 19. We gave my gramma (my dad’s mom) a journal (of sorts) for her to share some of her stories. It’s one of those directed albums where the book offers prompts. I’m hoping she’s been doing it. She seemed excited when we gave it to her.

    • You are, indeed, fortunate. I’m sorry your mother wasn’t able to enjoy the same kind of relationship, but I’m sure that yours is even more precious because of that lack.

      Very cool that you gave one of those memory books for a gift! Sometimes it’s hard to get people to follow through with these kinds of projects, but grandkids are good at guilting them into doing it. 🙂

  6. My mother died much too young (I was 18, she was 46) and I only lived with her for a very short time (about a year and a half when I was 16.) I’d give anything to have a better idea of why her life turned out like it did…but those are questions I will never get the chance to ask.

    • I am so sorry for your loss, Julia. I wish you’d enjoyed lots of mother-daughter memories, and that your mother would have experienced that same joy.

      And yet…we still have the opportunity to create positive stories from this point forward. Hugs for the hurts, but hurray for second chances.

      xoxo

  7. Lovely post, Melodye–and it has sparked some emotional sentiments below.

    I’d love it if my mom would write to me and tell me not only the events in her life but her thoughts regarding life. I would love to have that tangible gift in her own handwriting. I gave her one of those fill-in-the-blank books a few years ago. I wonder if she’s writing in it…

    • ((Cathy))

      I hope she answers those questions for you–in print or in conversation. I fear that those books, wonderful as they are, might seem intimidating to the person to whom they are given. Not everyone likes to write…

      Is there a chance you could work on the pages together over tea? Maybe record the Q & A into a digital recorder? I’d be wonderful to watch her facial expressions and to hear the inflections in her voice as she tells you her stories! Perhaps you could transcribe them later, or put them on discs for everyone to enjoy….?

  8. Happy Mother’s Day to you, Melodye!

    I’m sorry that you can’t ask your mom your heart questions. I can’t either. How about you and me sit down and have some earl gray tea in your garden and talk instead…

    • Oh Lorraine. I thought of you when I wrote this. ((HUGS))

      And yes, oh yes, let’s have tea together! Anytime, anyplace.

      Happy Mother’s Day to you and yours. xo

  9. What a wonderful picture!

    My mother has been gone since 88. We had some rocky times, but I hold her in my heart with tremendous love and affection.

    Happy Mothers’ Day to you, Melodye!

    x0x0x

    • I’m so sorry you lost your mother, Marybeth. It’s a profound loss on so many levels, isn’t it? I’m imagining–hoping, praying–that you find some measure of comfort and peace in that special place you’ve reserved for her in your heart. xoxoxo

      Happy Mother’s Day to you, as well. Oh, and happy birthday on the 11th–yet another day to celebrate your connection to your mother. 🙂

  10. I’m sorry you didn’t get to ask your questions.

    I ask my mother questions and all I get is “I don’t remember” which translates to “I don’t want to talk about it.” Sigh.

    Great links!

    • I feel content, in that I was able to ask her the most important questions. I’m sad, though, that she never felt comfortable giving complete and/or honest answers. I wonder why it is that some women don’t feel they can open up all the windows to their hearts? I hope someday soon your mother will pull back the curtains and allow the sunshine (and you!) to come in.

      (hugs)

  11. Your mother and my mother sound quite a bit alike. She’s definitely not forthcoming and will be taking many secrets to the grave. There are just some things we “don’t talk about.”

    I truly wish you could have those Hallmark inspired dreams come true, Melodye. I’m sure there are many, many, many questions you need (and deserve) answers to. *hugs*

    • You, too? Maybe this veil of secrecy is more common among mothers than I originally believed. ((Group hug among all of us who understand…))

      I hope your mother and you are able to pierce that veil someday soon. Let the sunshine in and sweep away the dust bunnies…That’s what I say, anyway.

      • Maybe you’re right and that motherly veil of secrecy is common… I couldn’t say. But definite group hugs to all who undertand.

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