Today’s prompt from The Daily Post, asks me to write a letter to my mother telling her something I’ve always wanted to say, but wasn’t able to.
My best memories of our time together are from when I was little. You seemed so happy and carefree then. Little vignettes from those early days will come to me now and again, and I wish that I could tell you how much I loved our shared time together.
If you were here now I would tell you I loved you for making me finger puppets. I remember sitting in the little kitchen, watching in wonder as you penciled lovely ladies on cardboard. When finished, you would carefully cut them out, adding finger holes for the legs. Then placing the beauties on our hands they would come to life as we sang and danced them about the surface of the table.
I loved sitting next to you as you *read the Sunday funnies to me. That time together fostered my life long love of reading, and remains a valuable and cherished gift.
I remember your anger at Christmas, when you gave me money to buy presents for the boys, and I spent it on a Barbie for me. You never forgave me in words, but the detail put into the wardrobe you created for that ill gained doll spoke volumes. How many nights did you stay up late to create an azure silk gown with a real mink stole, and the other delights to adorn my doll? Your forgiveness was surely evident in the many hand sewn details you added to each outfit.
Each memory of your sharing, of your creative ways with me, echos…”I loved you.” Did you know how much it meant to me then, what it means to me as an adult? Did I ever say how much I cared?
I wish I could tell you now.
*It would be many years later that I would discover that my mother was illiterate. It was a poignant surprise, which I have shared HERE