Mom

My mom finally died on the eleventh day of May. I say "finally" because it was Alzheimer's disease that very, very slowly took Mama away from us. It happened one long, devastating day at a time. If you have lost anyone to this cruel and insidious disease, you understand.

Even though it had been a very long time since Mom really knew who I was, I've found myself missing her as if she'd died suddenly and while still the energetic, capable and caring woman she had always been. I keep finding myself suddenly wanting to call and tell her about something in my day. Most recently, it was while I was idly stirring the rum sauce for her special pineapple cake. I thought I'd gotten past things like that a long time ago.

Mom loved to sew and cook and garden. She did beautiful crochet, made lovely quilts and tried her hand at the trendy crafts as they came and went. All of this while making a home and serving as Daddy's right-hand-woman in all of his many endeavors. People who knew her would comment that she could do anything!

She cared a lot about the way she looked and would have scolded me for letting her hair go gray once the disease made her too anxious to have it colored in the little beauty shop at the nursing home. She hated sneakers ("those big, old, clunky white things") and most other "comfortable" shoes. She never "let herself go," as ladies of her generation used to say. It made her crazy that after bearing three children, she was never quite able to achieve a perfectly flat stomach again.

She loved clothes and made almost all her own and mine, too, until I could make them myself. In the picture above, she made my dress (I still have it) and probably her own. I love her sassy little spectator pumps!

During my teenage and young adult years, Mom and Daddy took many trips through a company with which their business was affiliated. Before each trip, with the itinerary in hand, Mom and I would plan the clothes she would need and shop for fabric and accessories. Since she had taught me to sew as soon as I could reach the machine, I would help as she made each outfit. We did the very same thing when it came time to plan my wedding.

Because of Mom, sewing and needlework have had huge significance in my life. Sewing, quiltmaking and hand embroidery have been so integral to my activities and personality that I can't imagine life without them. I remember begging my busy mom to let me sew at her machine when she still felt I was too young to be there without her supervision.

I read a biography of Betsy Ross when I was eleven years old and felt a kinship that I would later ponder as I learned about reincarnation. Thanks to my mom, I'm still happiest with a needle in my hand.

I think I'll have to tell you more about my mom another time. I'm afraid that's all the remembering I can bear on this day, though there is so much more of her to tell. She and Daddy and my beloved brother, Gary, have all gone on ahead to the next adventure. I'm sure I'll be writing more about all of them as time goes on. But, depending on the tenor of the day (and my own state of mind), it may be a lot or just a little. Because some days are easier than others. You know what I mean...