Sometimes, out of the blue, I especially miss my Mom. So I make her potato salad, with lots of dill and red onion. Two of her favorite flavors, in one dish.
My memories are clouded, some good and some not. She was flawed, but we all are, and her flaws built much of my strength. So instead of holding onto what I didn’t like, I try to remember the good.
The way she believed in girls and women is probably the biggest lesson I learned. My Mom never thought a man had to save you, but a good one, could enhance your life. She was proud of the partnership I had. Sadly, she died, before she could see how truly exceptional, he became as a father and a husband.
She believed in the Girl Scouts, the mission and it’s lessons. She believed in the earth and that gardens of beauty were worthwhile. She loved babies and the promise they provided. She taught us to see people and care for all. The urban programs she started were to bring better unity of races and cultural divides. She believed someday the divisions of races would fade.
Campfires remind me of her. The smell in my hair after being near one can transport me to childhood. Beechwood was one of my most favorite places to go. It was a Girl Scout Camp in Sodus, NY. The rangers name comes to me, out of the dark recesses of my memories. Skippy, but I can’t be sure I am actually correct? I hate not having her to call and ask... My Mom’s GS camp nickname was Rusty. She got it because her hair was the color of rust.
My Birthday coming, or the death of yet another friend’s parent. My Mom has lingered in my mind much, over the last few days.
The story I was told, was that I was almost born, on a camping trip. Even though she was due soon and I was the last of five, she still went Memorial Day weekend camping. Her Girl Scout troop was counting on her or maybe she just wanted to enjoy a weekend in the woods? Either way, she was correct, it was fine and I wouldn’t come until Thursday, June 1. Maybe that’s why I love a good campfire and the smell of it lingering in my hair this morning. Miss you Mom...
