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Memories of my mother

As we approach Mother’s Day and honor the people who have the most important responsibility in our lives, I think about my mother. She died 18 years ago at the age of 95.

I think of her more now than I ever did. In fact, I even recall her phone number (536-2630.) I spoke to her every day, even in her last days when, at times, she didn’t know who I was.

After my dad died at age 48, people would ask her if she would remarry. Her answer was always the same: “Nobody could ever replace him.”

Her children always came before any concern for herself. My brother, Mark, sisters, Lillie and Judith, and myself never had to question who was her favorite. She distributed her unconditional love equally among us. The one fault she had was that she always defended us, regardless of what we did. She really believed her children were the best.

In her old age, when her memory would fail her and she didn’t know exactly what was going on, it was really interesting and sometimes funny. She lived alone, so Lillie, Judith and I would have each a night to sleep with her. (Mark was deceased.) She would keep Judith and me up all night, but Lillie said that my mom would sleep well when she was with her. We later found out that Lillie (now deceased) was taking sleeping pills.

The story I like to share the most is that one night when I stayed with her, we were having a discussion. She didn’t know me and referred to me as “that man.” I said, “Mama, how many children did you have?”

“Why do you have to know that?”

“I think you had four.”

She just looked at me and said, “Yes.”

I then named them. “Judith, Lillie, Mark and Harold.” (Keep in mind this was an open, honest and most interesting conversation.)

“Who did you like the most, Mark or Harold?”

Without hesitation, she said, “Mark. Harold always thought he knew everything.”

(That’s proof that her memory wasn’t completely gone.)

My mom was a great wife, mother, grandmother and great-grandmother. Yes, she was in a class by herself. If I open a dictionary and look up the definition of a mother, I wouldn’t be surprised to see her picture.

To all the mothers, Jeanne and I wish you a very happy Mother’s Day.

 

If you have any questions, or comments, please write to Get High on Life, P.O. Drawer U, Reserve, LA 70084, or call 985-652-8477.