My Mother, my Momma, their Mommee

Yesterday morning I awaken to my Facebook memory being

this photo of Mom at the Manor and us visiting.

She had just gotten out of the hospital and we knew her days

with us were coming to an end. I wanted this picture badly as

I knew it may be one of the last I would have of her with

my BB, also her "baby boy" and our Jilly.

I see her hand, so thin and small on Jilly's leg and

although dementia had set in to her most beautiful self,

she managed to show her love even more so at those times.

I could say this picture gives me sadness, yet it does not.

It is more melancholy...

This woman left us with so many good things,

so many cliche's that we still use.

Such as, when looking in a mirror, saying,

"Oh, well... you can''t improve perfection."

We lost parts of her when dementia came to her world,

so the Momma we grew up with had gotten mellow

and more like our child, I missed having my Mom

even though she could drive us crazy with her

opinionated self, but anything us kids needed,

if she could, it was her who helped.

I was privileged to have her live with us while

my children were growing up.

Their Dad worked away so much, my babies were

so lucky to have someone home every day when they came home.

If I was at work, she made sure she was home for 3pm, and 

had snacks, salads, whatever they wanted that day.

She was not always easy to live with, I repeat,

but the bond my babies had with their maternal grandmother

was special. She loved all her grandchildren and was so 

proud of each of them, yet I know my two, because

she was with them every day, they were closer

perhaps than some of the others.

As I grow older, and my children can tease me sometimes

even when they don't realize that some of those things 

hurt me. What I wish for the future?

That my two babies treat me, as I age,

the way they treated their Mommee.

They didn't just love her, they adored her

and I will always, always be thankful for all she did

for us all. I want to leave this text with a story

of what kind of Mother she was to me even as an adult.

BB lost our neighbor he was very close to.

It affected us all because the young adult, having

watch him grow, had a really rough life. He took the

time with a little pesky boy who lived across the street,

so he was close to BB. When we first found out about

his death, BB had company and I was surprised that he didn't

seem to be very upset. I knew this was odd as BB is was

very emotional at that time. That night, he wrote the most

beautiful letter to our Nic and asked that I give it to him.

"Baby, Nic died, I can't give him this"

and it hit him, and he cried.... and cried, and cried,

he stayed in my arms in my bedroom while I hugged him 

and he wet my shoulder with all the tears that passed.

I tucked him in once he was over and I went into my

own Mommas room, she was sitting on her recliner,

I knelled down in front of her bawling like a baby,

I put my head in her lap, and she rubbed my hair

and was quiet as I cried. When I could speak,

I said, "Momma, tell me I am handling this right,        

Tell me I am a good Mother... I don't know what to do"

she held my face in her hands and said,

"Lilly, you are a wonderful Mother and you have handled

this situation better than I ever would have,"

This spoke volumes to me. Once again for that half hour,

she was my Mommy, I her baby girl.

I will never forget that special night.

I was a very lucky child!