Sunday, May 13, 2012

To my mothers

I think of my Grandma Benzo every time I wash dishes by hand. I think of her whenever I do something clumsy. I think of her when I choke on something and blame it on the Brackenberry epiglottis. I think of her when I see my mom hug my kiddos.

I think of my Grandma Watson when I have the opportunity to sip coffee quietly or when I hear someone laugh a deep, throaty(i.e. smokers) laugh. I think of her, too, when I smell roses. She must wear a rose perfume or did in the past. I think of her when I cover up with a quilt. I think of her when I buy stamps.

I think of my mom every time I have to deal with something military related and marvel at her strength of having put up with this system for so long. I think of her every time I have to leave. She was the daughter leaving. She was the mom whose kids didn't have family birthday parties. She was the one who understood packing tape and cardboard boxes. She was the one forced to make new friends every three years. She's the one who never complained about it. She's the one who made our lives normal. She's the one who hunted down a church and school and grocery store every time we moved.

I think of my sister every time I fix my hair. Every time I go for an afternoon cup of coffee(which I have not done since I left SC, btw. Afternoon coffee just isn't the same without a sister to drink it with). I think of her every time something funny or sad or OH! or you-will-NOT-believe-this happens.

I think of my mother in law every time Sean(or any of his three minis) wakes up grumpy. I think of her every time I pass my little crystal mama bird with her babies. The movers broke it, but Sean painstakingly super-glued it back together. She sent it to me when Sean was deployed.

Happy Mother's Day to all the women who have shaped me. I am still learning, every day, I'm learning. But one day, I hope to be the woman who passes along little nuggets of wisdom to the next generation of mamas. Thank you all for what you mean to me.

A happy sidenote: Tonight, Titus asked to pray before dinner. He folded his hands and said, "I want to pray. For God." He mumbled a few things, peeking at me all the while I was peeking at him. Asking for clarity, "Did you ask for God to come to our house?"

"Yeeees," he answered, grinning, quick to add, "AND GWAMMA!"

Grandmas, we're all ready for a visit.

2 comments:

Jude said...

the smells... they get me every time.

Corey said...

such a sweet post!
Happy mothers day to one of the best I know. :)