Twice, in the last few weeks - I have been so blessed - and it didn't even require the Medium.
A couple of weeks ago, I spied a beautiful, familiar face on the Bread Aisle of the Teeter. (My Mother had 3 best friends - 2 of whom are still living). Martha, - white hair cut in a modern, sassy style, eyes still twinkling with health and vigor - a bright jacket that forced you to take a second glance, was checking out the Pepperedge Farm. We were so happy to see each other, and as she hugged me, I allowed myself, for just a moment, to relax into a Mothers embrace. (I am sure Martha's daughter, my friend Alice, would not mind sharing). If she noticed that my head stayed on her shoulder a smidge longer than necessary - that I was the last one to end the hug - she didn't let on. We chatted about my children, her children...inevitably, the talk turned to my Mom, gone these many, many, many years.
Martha's last words ensured my family would eat a hodge podge of leftovers that night - sent me fleeing from the store, so I could cry my tears in the privacy of my old HippieChick van. "Your Mother would be so proud of you......she loved you so."
Today, leaving a luncheon honoring a retiring co-worker, I ran into Dot, the other remaining BFF. At 90 years old, she still drives a sleek, elegant car, and wields her rolling walker like a Five Star General. "I have something for you in my car - it has been there for months", she said. Together, we crossed the Club parking lot, she opened the door, and handed me a bag...inside was one of Mama's framed pen and inks. "This has hung on the wall of the Mountain House for all of these years. I wanted you to have it". Once again, I allowed myself the luxury of a Mother's embrace....and Dot was content to hug me longer than propriety decreed. Her parting words...."Your Mother would be so proud of you.....she loved you so". Identical to those Martha had spoken days before. My friends were waiting in the car, and I hurried to get in - head down, clutching the little bag with the treasure inside. Thankfully, the Church is just a block from the Club, so we were there in a jiff. I managed to close myself in my office without making a public spectacle, but once seated at my desk, my tears bathed the little picture - the one I remember my Mother drawing, so long ago.
I have felt such a longing lately for my Mother....for a hug, some words of encouragement.....a little nurturing to make up for 37 years of fending for myself....
In 8 months and 13 days (But who's counting, and God willing) I will have lived one day longer than my Mama. As a grieving 18 year old, I constantly thought about that day....when I would be older than She ever got to be....55....it seemed so old....so unattainable....so unthinkable - that I could survive for so long with no Mother. But I have, and often it has been a hard scrabble, punishing journey...one that has left me in dire need of some non existant tender care.
God has often shown up for me in unusual ways, during the course of my life. I do not believe it was coincidence, that these two women uttered the exact same words. He sent me a Mother's embrace when I needed it most...through those that were closest to my Mom...I felt her presence - for a moment, I smelled Jean Nate perfume and Jergens Original scent lotion....I saw her eyes in the eyes of her besties - the softness of their age worn cheeks was the softness of hers....her love, channeled through the decades - like a note in a bottle - sent long ago, for a future time.
Message received.
Thanks be to God for the Blessings of this day.
