momma

My memories of her come in snapshots now. A kaleidoscope of colorful fragments that somehow add up to a woman I called my mother. I can no longer hear her voice and the few examles of her handwriting have begun to look foreign and distant to me. I am losing her a little more each day. How is it that she still has such a hold on me? I often wonder if people tire of me talking about my mom. Wonder if they are thinking, "Ok, it's been 3 years now, get over it and move on with your life." I try, really I do, not to mention her in conversation. But I think that would be like me asking you to never mention your living mother....the memories are there and are still burning alive within my heart, as if they were put there yesterday. It takes 9 months to BRING someone into this world.....how can I let go of someone who was the major component of mine for 25 years?

Each time I look at her clumsily written recipe for lasanga I have to smile with a tear in my eye as I picture her writing it. Probably never realizing it would eventually become one of my most treasured possessions. Her pen is posed over the paper....she's making circles in the air just a hair above the paper....trying to figure out how to spell lasagna. She wasn't a good speller and seeing her mistakes in simple words like cheese or tomato makes me smile. She was left handed so her letters are slightly slanted and there are scribbles over letters didn't belong. The writing....the recipe....makes my mom come to life on paper.

The last thing I have that was written in her handwriting are a few pieces of paper that sit in the bottom of my treasure box. They are written with a shaky right hand, barely legible to me, entirely unreadable to those who weren't at her side when the words were written. My mother had a series of four strokes during her stay at the hospital. She lost control of much of her body and was in intensive care during one of my visits, so I was only able to see her in 15 minute spurts 4 times a day. On my last visit to her intensive care room, she scribbled as best she could, "I love you, be careful". I pull these notes from my box when I need a reminder that my mom loved me...enough to write it on paper even when she was in pain.

Such the mom she was that even in her state of helplessness, she still had the mind and the heart of my mother. The heart that never let up, that never failed to remind me that she loved me. The heart that knew that I was the one who needed to hear it more that any. The heart that knew of my regrets and, like the mother she was, forgave me of them. My dear sweet mom who reminded me to be careful....when she was truly the one in dire straits....and she knew then that I would never admit that to myself even after she was gone.

Sunday marks the 3rd anniversary of her death. Sunday marks the darkest day of my life...the day that unshakable, unselfish, unwarranted love was taken from me forever. I miss her more as each day passes. I hope to someday make her proud of the mom, the woman, the sister, the daughter I've become.

I only wish that I had the chance to prove what was left unproven when she left me. If only I could turn back time and not spend that last week in denial.....to admit to her that I knew she was leaving...and tell her it was ok and that I would be ok.

But she was my momma......so maybe she left knowing that already.

I love and miss you mom.

Proof

I often speak of how utterly spoiled my dog is. Now this is not attributed to anything that I do. My dear hubby would chew up his own food and feed it to the dog if need be. He adores the mutt, so the mutt gets away with murder. I went upstairs a few weeks ago and just about fell over laughing at the scene that greeted me. Here was Brandon, pushed off of his pillow, for a little 4 pound mutt. Just look at Hobbes....like the little person he THINKS he is....propped up on his pillow. Funny, yet disturbing:) Esp since Brandon's never given up his pillow for me~ ha!

oh thee innocent worry

A few nights ago as I was tucking Bub into bed, the girl comes running in...eyes wide with excitement. She'd been watching American Idol, but apparently she'd caught one of those teaser snippets from the late news show. Now, I am not one that really wants my children watching the news. I try to protect them from it best I can.....I just can't have my children walking around waiting for the sky to fall ya know?

Well, it's very obvious from Brooke's reaction that I don't let them watch it.

She runs in, hands flying *she is one of those hand speakers, yes*, eyes wide with disbelief, and voice raised in excitement.

"Mommy!!! You will NEVER believe it!! The POLICE here in Columbia, HERE! IN! COLUMBIA!! They arrested FOUR men. MEN! MOMMY! They ARRESTED FOUR MEN!!! I don't know WHAT they did, but the POLICE arrested them!!! CAN YOU BELIEVE IT!?"

Now I've tried to capture her voice with my caps lock on, and I hope I did a passable job. I am not sure if her sheer and utter disbelief was from the fact that either police actually DO work, or the fact that people are mean enough to actually warrant an arrest. Either way, it's ruined my child.

She's constantly asking to watch the news now.

Poli-nit-pic-tics

Unless you've had your head buried under some rock the past 8 months, you know that Hilary Clinton has decided she is man enough to run this country. Now before anyone starts gnawing my head off for that comment, I will say this: I have nothing against a woman running this country...so long as she is not some pansy who will bend and bow to every whiny spoiled rotten American. But Clinton, like her dear lying husband, has all areas covered...and with that, probably has the election in a bag tied with rainbow ribbons.

For instance, she appeals to the feminist. Her election *her victory!* is their salvation.

That said, I get this weekly paper from the small town up the road from me. I read it front to back *minus the sports page* because it's full of odd and ends about the small town life. There is a small section in which random people are asked different questions each week. Sometimes the questions are as simple as "Will you be buying your produce from the local farmer's market this month?" while some delve a little deeper*rarely, but the answers are always entertaining*.

This weeks question was, "Who would you vote for if the Presidential election were held today?"

Imagine my surprise when I read one woman's answer,"Well, just because I am a woman, I would vote for Hillary Clinton"............

Ok, I know some people are really this simple and stupid, but to base your vote off the gender of a candidate!? How ignorant can we get? That's like saying, "Well, I'm going to vote for Hitler because he has blue eyes"!!

Sad and disturbing is this simplistic, feminist view. Sad to think that I once thought being a feminist meant using your mind, reading to gain information, doing your research, then coming to an informed conclusion. Reminds me a bit of how the US operated about 70 years ago......only then, it was a man thinking for us:) Now we're being fed this feminist crap via satelite and we're gobbling every word up.

Hilary Clinton knows what she is doing. She's been i npolitics long enough to know that in order to get votes, you must know how to symbolize things for OTHER people, without ever paying a serious price. She is a MASTER at appealing to those who are "repressed"...all the while evading responsiblity! She appeals to the feminist in that all they've "suffered" through has not been in vain *OOH RA!* On the coat tails of her husband public affair, she appeals to the abused and humiliated. She appeals to the African American population because she pulls that repressed card at EVERY campaign stop. *By the way, I totally don't understand why we refer to blacks as African American. My ancestors can be traced back to Germany, England, and I even have some Indian in me, but I am not labeled as "German American", not even as an "Indian American". Sorry to pop any bubbles here, but last I checked, my children's great, great, great grandparents weren't slave owners, nor we're their any slave owners around at that time. ahhh, another day, another blog*

Anyhow, I am just sitting here marveling over the stupidity of half a nation. A nation who really believed *and made violent phone calls to the producers!* that JR Ewing was REALLY dead. I don't mean the character, I mean the man who played his character, Larry Hagman. I sincerely hope that this nation can see through HC's phony smile, her sugar caked words, and her ladder climbing strategy.

Until then....it wouldn't surprise me if we see Chelsea start dating a black *sorry, African American* lesbian before the election comes to a head.

So let's hear it for ignorance!