Mother's Day: Gratitude for the Less-Than-Perfect
This will be my ninth Mother's Day without Mama. We didn't know at the time of my first Mother's Day that it was to be her last. She and my dad came for a visit and took us all out to eat. Mama held Emmeline as much as she could and over that pretty little bonnet-covered head we shared looks of understanding and a new camaraderie. We were no longer just mother and daughter, but for a short time--nine months--our relationship had a new dimension as we were now both mothers. Mama is memory for me now. Memory of realities, blurred around the edges, softened with time, details fuzzy or sometimes sharp and focused. I cry on Mother's Day, usually the night before, after everyone is asleep and I am alone in the quiet. Just a good cry and then prayer. Thank you, God, for the time I had with her. Thank you for the mother you gave me. Help me to be even half as good as that wo...