Saturday, May 8, 2021


 I miss my mother.

When I was a child Mom was the person I looked to for almost everything. She fed me. She kept me as clean as she could. ( I was always playing in the dirt.) Most of all she loved me.

My hair grows fast. Mom used to braid my hair each day. That was the style for little girls. When teenagers began to wear pony tails she realized they were easier and faster. I was the first little girl in town to wear a pony tail.

When I was about 8 years old I started to beg for shorter hair. By that time I had to take care of it and it was not easy. Finally Mom gave in and cut my hair and gave me a permanent. Anybody remember Tonette perms for little girls? And they came with a paper doll to keep me busy while all the processing happened.

I was happy with the results. Mom  was pleased. Daddy was furious. 

I am the oldest of 7 children. That meant I was Mom's main assistant. I did not mind. It was that way for most families at that time.

She taught me to cook and do other household chores. I liked cooking. The rest of it not so much.

Mom was a calm person who took everything in stride. On a driving trip we took together we stopped in Salem, Massachusetts, to get a reading from a witch. Salem is full of them. The young man commented that Mom was like a calm, smooth-flowing stream while I had sparks shooting everywhere. It was so true.

Mom loved to write. When I was in early grammar school she had articles published in some of the popular women's magazines of the time. 

My mother was the most intelligent person I ever knew. (My mother-in-law was the wisest by the way.) It seemed as if Mom knew the answer to any question we might have. But she also taught us to find the answers for ourselves.

We actually went to college together. If either one of us was writing a paper and searching for that perfect word we would grab the phone. We would bounce words off each other until that word came to us.

As I matured my mother became one of my best friends. We both loved baseball. Her grandchildren would sit in the backyard in the summer so they could hear us yelling at the TV during a game. They did not know we also heard them laughing at us.

There were so many things we did together. One of the best was the driving trip we took through New England. We took turns driving. We stopped to see whatever one or both of us wanted to see. We bought souvenirs for everybody. It took us a week before we ended the trip in Kentucky at my sister's house.

I miss Mom. Since it is Mothers Day I miss her a bit more.

Happy Mothers Day to all mothers.


  1. Happy mother's day dear Emma!

    what a fortunate girl you were to spend such pleasurable time with your mom ,everyone has not such luck ,i am so happy for you my friend. i think daughters are next version of their moms and i bet you had all the answers for questions of your children just like your mom :)
    i was really fortunate that i had mother who stood for me and refused to gave us life she was given as girl .i can never ever repay what she did for us ,she was most precious gift of my creator for me !

    1. You are right about me being like my mother. Every once in a while I open my to speak and my mother's voice comes out! It used to startle me but I am used to it now. Happy Mothers Day Baili.

  2. What a beautifully written tribute to your mother! You must have inherited some of that writing ability, too. I had forgotten about the perms!

    1. There were so many things I did not mention. For instance Mom was funny. She did not mean to be but she was.

  3. So lovely! Your mother was clearly a gem.

  4. Lovely. I miss my mom, too. Took trips with her, watched baseball with her. Had Toni perms by her. I often feel like I should give her a call.

  5. Yes, I remember Tonette perms. Those little curlers, the wrapping papers, and the smell. In the 1950s little girls often had bangs cut really short, too. So many memories, and so many that are related to our mothers in one way or another. It makes my heart hurt a bit.

    1. I'll bet along with the hurt is a warm feeling of love too.