I like to write on weekends and holidays. When a holiday falls on the weekend; it makes writing extra special. Usually I look forward to write about our crazy lives. This week's story is always hard for me.
We have a holiday weekend coming up and I'm having a hard time with it. Mother's Day! My mother passed away 25 years ago this summer. There are not many days she is not in my thoughts. I would love to talk to her again.
Actually, I have talked to her many times over the last 25 years. When something new would happen in life, I would always ask "hey Mom, what the hell do I do now?" With Mom you kind of knew what she was going to say. With her it was going to be right or it was wrong. She left here knowing she did her best teaching us what was right and what was wrong.
That woman had a way to push you like no other. In elementary school, our grading systems was "1"-above average, "2"-average, "3"- below average. I came home with my report card after one quarter and gleefully announced, "This is great, I only have three 3's." Mom wasn't as happy as I was.
Mom believed in corporal punishment and wasn't afraid to use it. When she was finished, she was sure I wasn't going to be bringing home anymore of those 3"s. And she was right, I never did. She knew I didn't really try very hard and she couldn't let that happen.
In my mother's family she was in the first generation born in the United States. She was the first in her family to go to and graduate from high school. Letting one of her children waste the opportunity to go to school was not an option.
"Hey Mom, I still laugh when I think about that day." I don't think she thinks it as funny as I do now.
I'm pretty sure she has been watching all these years, just from a better place. I'm sure my family, my brothers and their families have kept her ent