Final Letter to My Mom

On July 13, my mom would have been 91 year old.  I've been thinking of her a lot the past few days so I decided to open the "dreaded scrapbook" this morning.  Six years ago, I made a scrapbook of sympathy cards, poems, letters, song lyrics, and Bible verses that gave me comfort during those weeks following her death.  I don't often open it, it's just too painful.  But I know some family members and friends who have experienced losses in their lives recently, and I hope they know I am here if they need a sympathetic ear or a shoulder to cry on.  I've been there, and I understand.

The following letter, written six years ago, is extremely personal.  But I wasn't then, and I am not now, ashamed to express my love for the best mother in the world.  If your mother is still living, you are indeed blessed.  Let her know how much you love her. 

"Dear Mom,

I know this is a letter you'll never read.  But now that your journey's ended, there are thoughts I need to record. 

From my earliest memories, you were there.  I still remember being safely carried on your hip...pushed by you in the tree swing...hand in hand walks.  You nurtured my imagination, and filled my heart with a love of music, poetry, and books.

You taught me how to climb a tree, even though Dad didn't approve.  I loved watching you sew, although the art wasn't passed down to me.  My left-handedness always got in the way.  You let me play dress up in your clothes and jewelry, and didn't get tired of me knocking on the door..."Come in Miss Jones", you'd say.

I remember how you would feed Mr. Tom without complaint when he conveniently dropped by at dinner time.  I'm sure the old man was lonely and probably had no food to eat at his house.  Whatever the reason, by your actions, you taught me compassion.

Through the years when friends complained about their relationships with their mothers, I couldn't relate.  You were always understanding and supportive. When I waited until the last minute to complete a school project, you would stay up with me until I finished.

When I went a little crazy at 18, you told me you felt as if you'd lost your best friend.  Wow, that hurt...I still remember it after almost 35 years.  The fact that I didn't want to disappoint you and Dad kept me out of a lot of trouble.

Even though you never worked outside of the home, you encouraged me to excel in the workplace.  I think you took pride in the fact that your daughter had opportunities not available to most women of your day.

Although  I know you were happy when I met my Bob and married, I know you were sad when I left home.  The wedding photographer captured the look...perhaps what all moms feel when their babies fly from the nest.  That empty feeling..."Okay, what do I do now?  I don't know how to be anything but a mother!"  I understand so much more now.

Four years later, I was a mom, too.  When I was left alone with Daniel that first day, I was scared to death.  And then you were there, reassuring me that I would be okay.  Oh, how you loved to rock all the grand babies.  Jennifer, then Karen, Susan, Bill, Daniel...finally Eric.  You had to hold him down to rock.

Until Susan mentioned it recently, I had forgotten how you sang "MaMaw's Baby" to the tune of "Come Thou Fount of Many Blessings".  When Susan went to church, she was surprised to hear them playing "MaMaw's Lullaby"...that reassured her she was where she needed to be.  I know if there are babies in Heaven, you are happiest in a rocking chair with a lap full!

Mom, I have no regrets when I think of our mother-daughter relationship.  I know you loved me, unconditionally.  I hope you are proud of the woman and mother I've become.  I'm far from perfect, but any good in me there may be, I'd like to attribute to your example.  You loved Jesus, and weren't ashamed to let that be known.  Thank you for showing me THE WAY.  I will see you again someday.

I love you,

Elaine"

Copyright 2011 Charlotte Laney