Thursday, March 26, 2009
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Thursday, March 26, 2009 |
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Community | Obits | Editorial & Columnists | Society | Sports | Education | Classified Ads | Calendar of Events | Features | Newsbriefs | Legals | Archives | Subscriptions | Photo Gallery |
| Close to Nowhere Mothers Mothers have been “the” topic of conversation in my vicinity lately. Last Wednesday, I went for a long overdue haircut and we were discussing 13-year-old girls and how they treated their mothers. Just like we did when we were 13, that’s how! On my 13th birthday, I accepted a “car date” with a 16-year-old guy from my church. Needless to say, that date was quickly nixed! I really wanted to be a hippie way back then also. And, of course, my mother stopped that also. She made all my clothes and one Easter I had to wear this horrible honey-colored, corduroy “suit” she’d made. The skirt came all the way to my knees! And the blouse matched the lining of the jacket, with these little tiny honey colored flowers. I felt absolutely hideous in that outfit! With the hindsight of way too many years, it was actually quite gorgeous. My mother was a wonderful seamstress. She just wouldn’t make me “hippie” clothes. It wasn’t until after I married and began having babies that I realized my mother wasn’t quite as dumb as I’d thought since hitting puberty. In fact, I found myself calling her and asking for help frequently. My mom passed away when I was 25 and my 14-year-old brother came to live with us. After my 20ish-year-old brother got out of the Navy, we “adopted” him also. But, for the most part, you just can’t replace your mother. Time does help though. Umpteen years later, I often recall funny moments or even just plain ole ordinary moments. And I get great pleasure from those memories. Barbara Taylor’s mother passed away last week. She had cancer. For many years, Miss Hilda would come on Fridays and go out to lunch with us. She was part of our South Reporter family and we all loved her. Miss Hilda was just a regular “mother” -- she worked hard her entire life and raised a family with the same work ethics. I’m very glad I was able to know and love Miss Hilda and that she reared Barbara to be Barbara. It’s hard for their family right now, but, with time, the memories will make it all right again... |
      
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