My memories of my Mother start very early. I remember when we lived on 6th Street in Trion. It had to be before 1956, because we moved to a new house on Simmons street that year. I remember in the hot summers, Mom would get the hose pipe and put the sprayer on the end of it, and turn it on “spray”….that fine setting where the water is almost a mist. She would spray that water for what seemed liked hours while I ran laughing out and back through it, imagining I was running through a giant waterfall, or a wall of water.
She would let me help her put the sheets in the old washing machine, and then make me move back when she put the bleach into the clothes. I remember that smell as being something pleasant even til this day. We’d hang them out on the clothes line to dry. I never realized how young Mom was. She was only 20 years old when I was born so she was really never much “older” than me. She would always get me a jar with a lid during the late summer evenings, and watch me as I ran around catching and filling that jar with lightning bugs.
Mom didn’t work back then so she would sit around with me during the day and watch “Howdy Doody” and “Captain Kangaroo” on the tiny little TV we had….the one I remember had a screen about the size of today’s computer screen. You had to get up close to see the picture, but boy was the volume loud! I had oatmeal for breakfast most days…with raisins in it. A sandwich for lunch….usually peanut butter or bologna…sometimes fried. Then Mom would fix a big supper in the evenings for when Dad came home from work. A lot of potatoes and beans, cornbread or biscuits, and some meatloaf or fried chicken. She was a good cook. She learned from my Grandma Stewart, who was the best cook ever. Mom wasn’t sick back then…not yet. She still smiled a lot, and laughed….things she didn’t do as much after the mental illness started creeping in on her and making her thoughts turn dark and turning the bright lights down to dim in her eyes. I’m surprised by those long ago things I can remember, because some days I can’t remember what I had for breakfast. I guess it’s just because Mom was happy…and I am fortunate to remember the days of her happiness.
Mother’s Day is tomorrow. My Mother is gone. She died December 10th of the same year my Dad died, which was 2010. Nine years this year. I miss them both and think about them pretty much every day. Recently, I even dreamed of them both.
It was actually a dream in which we were all sitting around a large table having a meal together. I can’t remember everyone who was there, but I know Mom and Dad were there, Grandma Stewart was there, my Granny Bowers, and my wife. Maybe it was because I had been thinking about Mother’s day, and about them and many other things in the past right before I went to sleep. Maybe it’s something else….I don’t know.
I spend a lot of time thinking about the past these days. I know we should live for the day and in the day, but when your my age, you have a lot more “past” then you do “future” so I suppose it’s natural to spend a little more time there.
I know tomorrow is a “holiday” which has been set aside to honor our Mothers…and our wives who are the Mother’s of our children, but really shouldn’t we do that every day?
I certainly love the Mother of my children every day. Paula Neurauter Bowers and I will have been married 50 years next month on June 14th, and for 49 of those years she has been a Mother….every day. Our first daughter only lived two days, but Paula held her and loved her, ever so briefly in her short life. There was a bond formed between Mother and daughter that did not die, and never can.
We’ve been very lucky since then. We’ve got three great children in Kirsten, Ted, and Matt, and all of their spouses. They have helped us and loved us a lot.
Paula’s been a Grandmother since 1990, and since 2011 has been constantly in care of our youngest grandchildren. First Eli and Rue, and now Evie and Ellie. Before that there was Jessy and Auttie, Tyler and Chelsea, and Olivia Lynn. We didn’t keep them full time, but we loved them full time and still do…..Paula has more love in her heart for her “little ones” then they could ever know. (Also her two “doggie” children Hoosi and Daisy) Today we spent some time with Ted and Mel and Eli and our great granddaughter Oakley. It was very nice.
I respect Paula more than I do anybody for being the Mother and Nana she has been. I think I have told her that on some other days besides just on Mother’s day. I haven’t told her enough…I never could if I tried.
Mother’s day seems to be getting more and more commercial every year like a lot of other holidays. They shame you if you don’t go to Jared’s or Kays and buy her a diamond. I think a lot of Mother’s would as soon to have something their kids made them, than something bought. A crudely colored card with a scribbled “I love you”
My Mom, Evia Bowers.. kept a cutting board I made for her in Vacation bible school when I was eight. It said “Mother” I think I still have it somewhere around the house. She never used it, just kept it propped up in the kitchen. Guess it’s sort of like the little squiggly drawings I keep that the kids and grandchildren did when they were tiny and gave them to us as presents. We still get them. Mom got a cutting board, but she never lost it.
My Mom was a person who had many problems and privations during her lifetime. She was beset by mental illness in 1960, and battled it off and on for the rest of her life. She was thirty years old that year, and she lived to be almost 81. That’s a long battle. It’s one most people would have given up on, and I witnessed the days that Mom would have given up if she had not had that spark of love in her for her family. That tiny spark which we could nurture and eventually bring her back to us for a period of time….many times for years and years.
She was a sweet, loving lady during the “good” times. She loved to cook, took up crocheting, and watched her soaps every day with Daddy. She was terribly sick the last few years of her life, with diabetes and a detiorating nervous system. She had to have a pacemaker. There were some very bad days. Wearing and wearying days. Days in which I wish I could have done more, would have done more. My regrets are many.
Yet, when I think of her now, I think of her as a young woman. I think of the smell of clean bleached sheets hanging on the clothes line when I was four. I think of the backbreaking work she did filling battreys in the mill on the second shift for years, because we needed the money, and so she could save some money.
I think of the trips with her and Daddy to Myrtle beach, and the “frozen yoga” I think of the Italian Cream cake for my birthday. I think of the deep love she had for her own Mother, and the twice a month trips to the Blue Ridge nursing home that she and Daddy took, to take Granny out to eat. I think of how much she really did love my brother Mike and me, and also all her precious grandchildren, the five of them. Yes, I indeed have all of those, and many more, good memories to sustain me, and to which I cling on many days, especially on Mother’s Day.
So, on this Mother’s Day tommorow, show your Mother some love if she’s still with you. Hugs, kisses, and thank you’s…and oh some flowers too if you just gotta! Tell someone who is not a physical Mother, but who has been significant in your life, you love them and you are taking time on this Mother’s day to let them know how much you appreciate them.
I’ll be thinking of my Mom, and I’ll be with my wife.
And lastly Dad…I miss you every day old buddy!
Writing for Sanity's Sake 