Missing You

Still...

I had written this post a while back for Mother's Day. But, for the life of me, I could not find this photograph! I finally found it this week. Still appropriate in light of mom's 'anniversary' on Oct. 1.

What I wanted to share was more about my relationship with my mother who became a dear friend and kindred spirit to me in my adult life.

One of the things that my mom loved most was to have me wash her back when she was in the tub. I know it may sound odd, but it’s right in there with having your back scratched. It was one of life’s simple pleasures for her. There was a big mole on the left side of her back that looked as though it was ready to fall off. No matter how hard I scrubbed her back, it never fell off! From time to time, she would also have me wash her hair. It was a ritual that I’ve almost forgotten about. The old beige bath tub that often was all a family of 8 (four boys and two girls) had to bathe in when the other bathroom needed repair and dad was too busy working and my brothers were too young to know how (I seem to recall that that bathroom was out of commission for at least a full year). During the summer drought years, water was a scarcity and we would all have to share the same bath water.

Setting her hair was another ‘task’ of mine (although I never saw it as a task). I was mom’s helper not only in the household, but also in the ‘beauty‘ department. I must’ve started when I was 8 years old? It was pin curls back then. She showed me how to part her hair and pull up a strand of wet hair, twisting it gently and coiling it up and securing it with two bobbie pins criss-crossing each other, making an “x”. Later, sponge rollers became the craze and that’s what I set her hair with. After that came the rollers with the velcro on them. Raising six children all rather close in age and being a school teacher too, is an exhausting task. I know that these things that I did for her were her version of what we would see today as our spa retreats. Moments to relax and find peace from the hectic world. She was always appreciative of her live-in beautician. Quite a paradox since I was the world’s toughest tomboy!

Even after I was grown up and on my own, and would come home for visits, I would still do her hair and often her make up.

Sadly, after 30 years of marriage to my dad, they got divorced. It was a very traumatic event for all involved. I don’t think her heart ever mended from that, but she did learn to move forward. I don’t think the cause of death on the death certificate is ever listed as, “she died of a broken heart”. But, that would've been more accurate. In some ways, I think she did. I say this more in the context of observation than judgment.

In May of 1983 my older brother was getting married in Texas, so mom met up with me in San Diego where I was living at that time and we flew out to Texas together. Before flying out there, I took her on a shopping spree of sorts at Nordstrom’s to get her shoes, her dress, her lingerie for the wedding. My version of a ‘makeover’. I was a waitress back then and saved up for this spree. I did her hair. I did her make up. We wanted to look our best for this occasion; grabbing at whatever happiness we could as my marriage was not in the best of condition too as I was in the process of getting a divorce. We really didn’t know anyone at the wedding except my dad and my brother. The rest of our family couldn’t make the trip. The reception was at a lovely country club in Ft. Worth.This was the first time for me in this kind of setting! It seemed so posh. Mom and I hung out together at the reception and somewhere along the line, we needed to visit the ladies room. The bathroom had a foyer that had fantastic natural light that was softened by frosted glass. I had my old Nikon FE (film SLR) with me and grabbed the opportunity to photograph her. I made mom stand and pose for me and directed her on how to angle herself and how to look towards my camera. I propped the camera on the bathroom sink counter, set the timer, got in position as we both struck our poses. I was pleased as punch when I got the film developed. That portrait and the story behind it speaks volumes of the relationship I had with my mother.

I find myself compelled to tell bits and pieces of stories about my relationship with my mother, my kindred spirit. You’ll see postings about my mom around Mother’s Day and near the anniversary of her death. To see the other postings, type in the the word, “mom” in the search box at the top left of this blog. It should pull up all postings that I’ve done on my mom.

When you’re that close to someone, you never stop missing them. No matter how long it’s been since they’ve left.