For Mom

With today being Mother's Day, we all like to post on Facebook "I love you, Mom!", as it's cheaper than sending her a card.  We also like to argue as to who has the best mother.  This is ridiculous.  After all, my mother is the best.  Hands down.

Think about it, people.  She's put up with me for fifty-two years and not once has she killed me. 

Oh, she's thought about it, but she's never once carried out the act.  (There are times, though, when I stay out of the kitchen if she's using sharp objects.) 

Mom also used to fantasize about flushing me down the commode and waving goodbye.  I kid you not.  And she would tell this story to ladies' groups.  Once, a woman came in to the church library I run, and said, "Your mother told the funniest story about you."  I replied, "Is it about flushing me down the toilet and waving goodbye?"  She then repeated what I had just said, and laughed all the way down the hall.  (By the way, I had no idea who this lunatic was.)  At lunch, I told Mom, "You have some weirdos in your audiences."


Mom and Rod Cranford, one of
the people from their Study

Seriously, if I was asked to describe Mom in one word, it would be 'there.'  She's been there for many a person, and will continue to do so.  I know . . . I've used that for my sister, but just who do you think taught that to Diana?  Mom's hands are helping hands, and I for one have given them plenty of practice over the years.  She's been my 'Dr. Mom,' and still is.

She and Dad had a Bible Study for teenagers for fourteen years.  To this day, some of those people - many of them grandparents now - come to them for advice.  They haven't forgotten the Saturday nights at the Fishers, and the fact the folks were always there for them. 

Mom loves being a grandparent and great-grandparent.  It continues keeping her young, and watching her, you sometimes wonder which one is the young one.  One of her favorite pastimes is playing with her great-granddaughter, running throughout the house, shouting at the top of her lungs with Amelia.  I wish I had her energy.

She loves going through recipes, always searching for something new.  We constantly tell her she's the best cook in the world, so why try to change anything, but she always wants to improve. 

It's a hoot watching mysteries with her, as five minutes into them, she'll turn to me, asking, "So and so did it, didn't they?"  Five minutes later, I'll get the exact same question.  This will go on . . . and on . . .and on . . . all through the show.  Now, if I've seen it, she knows darn well I'm not going to tell her.  And if I haven't seen it, I have to tell her each and every time this movie is new to me as well.  Then, at the show's end, she's flabbergasted to discover she was wrong.

Mom's our rock, our right arm (even though she's a lefty.) .  I don't think she realizes just how loved she is.  But a lot of people do love her and care about her.

And I'm one of them.