Missing Mom On Mother’s Day
By Judith Parker Harris
Block: It’s too late to change.
Buster: Look through your mother’s eyes.
Florida Scott-Maxwell writes, “No matter how old a mother is, she watches her middle-aged children for signs of improvement.” For all of you who think it’s too late, I urge you to access your inner mother. I know that my mother looked at me and saw the unrealized possibilities of her life. But, she also saw me, flesh and blood, and she was proud as only a Mom can be.
As I became a change agent, helping people through difficult transitions in their lives, my mother did an amazing thing, she continued to change up to 6 weeks before her death, when a stroke took her away from the final stages of painful cancer. She died 8 years ago.
I write this for my Mom, Ellie Parker. I miss her every day. I struggle to hear her laugh. When good things happen to me, I miss seeing them through her eyes. I know she is near, I can smell her perfume and feel her breath when I least expect it.
Yes, my Mom was born scared, timid and a world class worrier. The main people in her life let her down terribly – her mother who was caught up in survival mode and serial marriages when Ellie was young, and her husband, whose alcoholism turned him into a monster through half of their marriage. Yet, she prevailed. Seldom was a hair out of place. Her clothes, while inexpensive, were stylish and she wore them like a suit of armor. Her home, while modest, was neat and lovely. She raised two accomplished kids, held a marriage together for over 50 years until Dad died, and then at 70 she became a career woman and built up her bank account to the highest level in her life. She was proud, this time of herself. She forgave, she embraced life, and she made countless friends.
I can also feel her support whenever I think I’m alone, I can feel her watching for signs of improvement and feel her smile with pride when I succeed for us both. I can feel her joy in reminding me that “It’s never too late to change” as I bust a block a day for myself and others. I wrote the following poem for Mom 5 years before she died.
There’s No Place Like Home
and No One Like Mom
There once was a woman named Ellie
Born frightened, a real Nervous Nelly
She timidly stepped out to become a wife
With style, she’d make the best of her life!
They struggled, they learned
For all answers she yearned
Instead, she got children, ten years apart
A boy, then a girl to fill her big heart!
Oh, how she worried!
Would she raise them just right?
They didn’t eat
She couldn’t sleep
They were so thin
She felt so grim.
They grew up and left home.
She was sad and so alone
They gained weight and ups and downs
She gained more worry, frets and frowns.
Now the kids are 40 and 50-something.
Businesses not babies they’re busy running.
They still access mom’s will to advise.
She’s sage and witty, reasonable and wise!
She’s a self-supporter, an independent lady.
All at the impossible-to-tell age of eighty.
She’s our mom, our friend and a career gal
A homemaker, stylist and favorite worry-pal!
Mom, we couldn’t love you more if we tried.
You’ve earned our greatest devotion and pride!
May you continue to grow younger each year.
You are our treasure, we always want you near.
Topics: Blogs | 2 Comments »
May 20th, 2010 at 11:01 pm
Thanks for this great post about your mom.
I love your poem. Yes, mom’s are very special creatures. I’m so glad that mine is still young at 71, healthy as a horse (she could outrun most 20 year olds), compassionate and loving, and just the most wonderful mom in the world.
It’s great to stop and read about your special memories.
May 20th, 2010 at 11:10 pm
Just remember to stop and take a look ( a mental snapshot) at your own special memories. They will come in very handy someday.
So glad you liked the poem,
Judith