A Letter to Mom
By Sheila O’Brien,
Dear Mom,
When I was little, I would curl up in your lap. I loved the
feel and smell and sound of you. I remember at the end of the day how you sat
in a chair by
my bed and read or told me stories before I went to sleep. There must have
been so many times you were tired and sleepy in the middle of the night but
you would come to me when I called out frightened or sick. You would hold me
in your arms and soothe me. Sometimes you would have to change my bed.
But,
for a very long time, I only remembered your angry words.
Later when
I went to school, I would come home to the hot lunch you made between your
regular routine of beds, floors, and laundry. You would sit
at the table
and talk with me. Later, I would stop my play to listen to you singing church
hymns or Irish songs while you rocked my younger brother or sister.
For too long a time, all I chose to remember were your angry words.
Later, when I begged for special clothes, or to go somewhere
or to do something you thought was not in my best interests; you took the
time to reason with
me and the repercussions from saying,”No.” Other times, you helped
me get what I wanted. You drove me to places I needed to be. Later, you’d
pick me up when I called. Sometimes, you would pick me up before I called.
How you must have worried when I didn’t call or come home on time!. You
must have been so angry with me when I arrived at home late rebellious, defensive,
and blaming.
In
Our Store
|
|
You told me you loved me and I remembered your angry words
When
I became a mother you helped with my children as if they were your own. I would
hear you humming your songs to them. You would mend things and cook
for them and nurse them. I would make tea and we would sit at the table and
talk. Sometimes we would disagree because we came from different times. There
were more times when we laughed and agreed and enjoyed being together.
I listened
to your stories and I perceived a beautiful young girl who loved music and
laughter. She must have had hopes and aspirations and dreams that
were not all realized, She didn’t have as much choice and freedom as
I did.
I remember how you loved me and I remember your angry words.
As you aged, your body began to hurt, your ability to do things began to decrease,
your memory began to fail. There were times when you were frustrated, lonely
and sad. You are gone now...
I remember how truly human you were and I remember how
much you loved me.
Other articles you may find interesting:
By Sheila O’Brien
*The articles published on this site undergo our review process.
We found the information in this article to be very useful and informative. |
