As Mother’s Day approaches, I start to reminisce or as my Mother always said, “Take a trip down memory lane.” It is hard to believe that my children are 26, 27, 33 and 37. I can still see them as young children, laughing as they played in the big old house we lived in on Miami Beach. Jason, the eldest was always creating music and the family enjoyed his songs more than anything popular on the radio. Samantha, the big sister, loved to read, and was usually curled up in a corner with a book. Heidi and Paul, only 16 months apart in age were inseparable, and could usually be found in the playhouse that sat in the corner of the living room.
When I look back at this stage of my life, I smile. I put in 18 hour days keeping up with a large family, chores and the rigors of day to day living but my heart overflowed with happiness. We didn’t have a lot monetarily, but I had exactly what I wished for….a wonderful spouse and 4 beautiful, healthy children.
The only thing that I did not have was a Mother who could enjoy life with the family who adored her. My Mother was stricken with Parkinson’s disease in her early 50’s and the progression of the disease rapidly deteriorated her physical capabilities. By the time my fourth child was born, she was almost totally home bound, her brilliant mind locked in a body no longer able to function.
When the older children were at school, I would walk to my Mother’s house, just a few blocks away, with the two little ones in their double stroller. My visits with my Mother were very special to me. I am sad that the youngest have no recollection of those times and never got to know their Bubbi. They would have loved her very much.
|Blanche Barnett Nevel (1924-1991)|
2011…My 4 children are scattered all over the country. I will be alone on Mother’s Day because my husband will be working as he does every weekend. I am going to sit in the sunroom, (decorated like the old house in Florida) take out my albums and treat myself to a little trip down “memory lane”.
If I close my eyes and listen very hard, I am sure that I will hear a “Mommy, I love you” whispering in my ear.