I'm not feeling well today – nothing catastrophic – just the average cold/sore throat that would have gotten me time off from school back in the day; however, it's not the sniffles and headache that are bringing me down. It's those sick days gone by. Call me a big baby, but I miss my Mom.
My mother has been deceased for twenty years. You might think I should be over the loss by now; apparently, I am not. Never a day goes by without thoughts of Mommy. Usually, I revel in happy memories that bring a smile to my face, but on days such as this, when I feel plain lousy, I flat out ache for my mother.
As a child, whenever I was sick, nobody could make me feel better than my mother could. She made a bed for me on the sofa so I could watch Bewitched re-runs and Hollywood Squares and brought me Campbell's chicken and rice soup, lightly buttered toast, and tea. In the middle of the afternoon, she brought me yankee doodles, and if my throat hurt, she gave me ice cream. If I was too sick to leave my bed, Mommy fixed my long hair into what she called a french braid and piled it atop my head. I doubt Tyra Banks would approve of my Mom's technique, but my french braid made me believe I didn't look half as bad as I felt. Mom went about her business during the day, stopping every so often to check on me and bring me a cool cloth for my feverish head, another bucket for you-know-what, or freshly laundered pajamas. Nothing can make a sick little girl feel better than knowing her Mom is close by, ready and able to make things better.
I wish with all my heart that my Mom was close by now, ready and able to make me feel better.
This column, however, isn't about me. It's about those of you who have loving mothers still with you. You have no idea how blessed you truly are. Pick up the telephone or go see your mom and thank her for everything she ever did for you. And if you are a young adult, scoffing at my corny sentiment, believe me when I tell you there will come a day when, sadly, you will know what I'm talking about. Whether you think your mother is a helicopter-mom, old fashioned, out of touch, a lousy cook, always meddling in your business, or whatever else you gripe about, take it from me. Forget it. If your mom is alive and with you, appreciate the treasure.
Enough sad. This big baby is off to make myself a cup of Campbell's chicken and rice soup...even though it won't taste as good as when Mommy made it.