Beltane and the Corona Lunacy II
Friday gratefuls: Zaidy’s Deli, where Seoah and I will pick up supper. The sensory practices of medicine. Rain. 25 degrees with ice on the stairs. Mother’s Day. Mom. Hand made May baskets. (elementary school). Wild Flowers. Mushrooms. Altitude. My hands. My feet. Lungs. Keen’s.
Mother’s day, or fishing opener as it’s known in Minnesota, is Sunday. Korea’s got a solution to that annual Gopher State family paradox: Parent’s Day. It was yesterday. Seoah’s sister called and I saw her niece with helium balloons and some sort of Korean delicacy in a clamshell box. A better idea, Parent’s Day. Then U.S. Dad’s wouldn’t get so many ties.
Mother’s vary, of course. Some mothers are mean, cruel. Some mothers belittle and deride. Others, most I like to think, love their kids. Support them. Encourage them.
To this day my mom’s hair do, smell after a perm lingers. Her lipstick, usually bright red. Her smile. Her hug. Her kindness to us, to others. Those memories have faded, the colors softened. This will be the 55th Mother’s Day without her. She’s vintage. My memories of her have a definite 1950’s flavor. She died in 1964.
This holiday is bittersweet for me and has been most of my life. Sadness, joined with cool rain and overcast sky. Sun peeking through.
She will always be the small town girl grown. Her hometown, Morristown, south of Alexandria, had around 800 people. The high school reunions include all classes. Not much in the way of sidewalks. A farm town.
The Copper Kettle gave it a touch of class, a place outsiders would come for the fried chicken and mashed potatoes. Which my Aunt Mary would make. The Blue Bird was where town folks had breakfast, coffee. Sugar cream pie.
Mom was of the Blue River, the corn fields, and dairy farms even though she grew up in town. She traveled, though. Made it to Capri, Algiers, Rome. A WAC in WWII working with the Signal Corps.
This morning I put my hand in hers, my 73 year old hand in her 47 year old one. We’ll walk a bit, talk about the old days. Happy Mother’s Day, Mom.
