I've just taken to romantic saxophone music a few weeks ago on YouTube. Totally bowled over with all of your talents. Bolero is one of my favourite pieces to listen to as well.
Those memories are pretty awesome. I'm sure there are not many people in the world who have had as close a bonding as you have had, so you're certainly blessed in that.
Itís hard to know where to start, reflecting on the memories of a loved one.
As a child I remember my mom working in her flower gardens, pulling weeds and rocks out to make room for her flowers. She had patches spread out around the yard. There was a long one in the backyard, two on one side of the house that had snapdragons growing in them, some smaller bushes on the other side. She also had a long one running along the front of the house and a round one in the middle of the yard.
As for her vegetable garden, she had that planned out each year and the layout was always different. She would use stakes to measure out the rows for her beans, carrots, lettuce, onions and beats. The corn would have a section of its own, as well as the tomatoes and cucumbers. I canít say she was impressed by my attempts to sneak into the garden and steal away from a handful of beans or peas. Whenever she sent me out to gather beans for supper it usually went something like this: ďOne for me, one for the basket, one for me, one for the basket.Ē
Sticking with the vegetable theme, my mom had one stubborn daughter to deal with since I will not eat cooked vegetables (with the exception of corn on the cob). After some years of eye rolling and tsk-tsk-ing my mom finally gave up and left some raw veggies in a bowl for me each dinner. This past summer I had actually returned to my apartment to see a bag hanging on the door knob and it was full of carrots, cucumbers, tomatoes and beans. I also had an email from her entitled "Gifts from Garden Gnome":
"Just wondered if you got your goodie bag and also the mail inside. Remember not to keep the tomatoes in the fridge as it sucks the taste right out of them and they end up tasting like nothing. The beans are also different from other years as they are pole beans rather than the bush type, still good though. The pepper plant has some more peppers on it but they need to grow some more. Enjoy.
My mom has always been my go-to person where food is concerned. I could be in the middle of a grocery store and call her to ask what beans to buy for chili and how Iím supposed to cook it. I called her asking her what kind of meat I should get if I want to make a roast. When I first moved out I had never cooked chicken before so I was calling her up asking her what temperature the oven was supposed to be set at and how long I should let it cook. It was only a few months ago that I had been following a recipe from HELLO! magazine about making this wonderful leg of lamb. The recipe called for a 5 lb leg but I could only find a 2.4 lb leg I was willing to buy. I talked to my mom about how long it should stay in the oven for so it didn't burn; we even joked about the bottle of wine the recipe called for.
That was the greatest thing about mom. She was always there to talk to and she would always support you.
When I was in high school I played in a lot of bands and I had a lot of practices before and after school. My dad would drive me in to the early morning practices and my mom would pick me up. Every winter and spring we put on a Christmas Concert and Spring Symphony and she would always be there. One year I had joined the All Saintís Anglican Sax Choir and it was something like every third Sunday we had a performance. We would drive into town and my mom would sit as close to the front as she could in the hopes of seeing me play.
After high school I didn't play much. For years I was so busy with school and work or finding a job, and being with my friends. However, this past winter I found a group of students at Trent who had their own concert band. It worked out since they needed a bass end (baritone sax) and I needed a group to play with. I was rather excited about the music we were playing and I emailed YouTube videos to my mom so she could get a sneak peak at what they sounded like. One of the songs was Bolero and she said she had always loved Bolero. They came to see me play that night and I was so happy to have her and my sister there. I tried to play out more to make sure they could hear me. I know mom was happy to see me playing again and I'm happy she got to see me play one last time.
I have a lot to be thankful for. My mom had to deal with late night calls where I would talk to her about everything and anything; from work, to friends, my cat and guinea pigs, food I wanted to make, clothes Iíd bought, and who knows what else. I would talk to her for at least an hour and when I finally let her go I went from saying ďtalk to you laterĒ to ďtalk AT you laterĒ. Of course I couldn't always wait until the evening to talk to her; sometimes I would call her when she was at work and talk to her quickly about something.
Whenever I was upset about something like those girls from high school, stressful projects and people in college, or a breakup with a boyfriend, she would be there. I could talk to her about anything and I felt free to cry around her. Most recently I found myself with my head resting on her leg while I cried. She didn't say much, she just ran her hand through my hair and that was enough.
There is definitely a hole where she used to be, Iíve felt it a few times. A few days ago I found $60 in a parking lot and I used that to help pay for a few items for my new apartment. I wanted to call her and tell her about it but then I remembered she wasn't there. I canít ask her how she makes her chili or her lasagna. I have her recipe for stuffing but it will never be as good as the stuffing she made on Thanks Giving or Christmas; I donít expect my turkey will be as good and I wonít be able to call her in a panic because Iíve never cooked a turkey before.
While I miss her more than even I can comprehend, I feel she left knowing that I would be okay and that I can take care of myself, and if I stumble there are those who will be there to support me and help me get back on my feet. She raised a strong daughter, one she can be proud of, one that loves her very much; one that wishes she didn't have to leave so soon.
Youíll be in my thoughts and forever in my heart. I love you, Mom.
3 blog comments below
deanhills on Tue Mar 05, 2013 1:45 pm
Your mom sounds like a wonderful person and it is great that the two of you built such good memories. Thanks for sharing, L.
I am so jealous. I wish my parents were that caring.
I am so jealous. I wish my parents were that caring.
standready on Tue Mar 05, 2013 10:50 pm
I was thinking the exact same thing Stand. And I'm envious too.
deanhills on Wed Mar 06, 2013 1:32 pm