I know the rest of the world does not stop when you have tragedy in your life. I am doing my best to be as understanding of others as I can today. "Walk a mile in their shoes", as Momma would say... Yadda yadda... Yoda. Still, It is difficult for me right now to understand the preface "Happy" written so many times before "Mothers Day" on social media today. Happy just cannot apply. At least not now. Momma died on March 25th. My Baby sister of only 40 years old died on January 23rd.. Happy just cannot be applied here. And though it is my deepest intent to wish everybody well (And happiness), I cannot help but cringe. I cannot be happy today. Momma's gone. Marsha's gone. I miss them both so much it is a physical pain. No, Happy just ain't in the cards for me.. And there is nothing I would rather do today than just hide away and hope it will go by quickly. What is in a day, anyway, so designated by a human of some sort? I mean there was no divine decree or anything like that, Right? However being that I often call my writings here a session with the good Doctor Blog-ieo, Maybe this would be a good day to maybe tell you about the good woman who was my mother, who not only gave birth to me, but also never abandoned me, stuck with me till the end, something I would come to appreciate even more when the mother of my own children just left us so long ago. My mother is no longer with me through no choice of her own. The same cannot be said for everyone.. Just as it takes more than fathering a child to be a true Dad, So does it take a lot more than giving birth to be a true Mother. But this is about MY mother so let's forget the rest. Let's just say Momma never left, and was around for all my life. She drove me totally nutso sometimes, But I loved her for that.
My mother was born in the year 1949. Her biological father left when she was only a couple months old, leaving my Granny as a single parent to her and my Uncle Allen. Later came the good man J.D. Sasser who raised my mother like she were his own. Momma called this man Daddy, because he was her father in all the ways that really counted. Later, her younger brothers, Tommy and James were born. It must have been something else, being the only girl with three brothers around. She specifically told me how they used to fight over what channel the TV was on. Her brothers loved "Hogan's Heroes" and apparently Momma likes a show that aired opposite to it. Oh, I might as well name some of Mom's favorite TV Show.. MASH, Quincy, Perry Mason, and she was the one that got me started with Miami Vice. Funny really... Marsha got me started with a drink served at Prime time In Tallahassee of the same name. (But I'm getting Off Topic here). My Mother got to know loss and tragedy at a young age. Her baby brother James died in an accident when he was only 8 years old. The good man she called Daddy died of a heart attack when she was only 17. She lost her older brother Allen when he was only in his 20's. And of course she lost the people we tend to lose over time. Her beloved Granny Sellers who gave her the nickname "Motsie" comes to mind. Momma also had her happy moments. My Granny Sasser (Who has been my example of a strong woman) (She really had to be, you know?) Was the manager of Cristos Dime Store in Chipley during the late 1960's. A man wandered in and began to tease Momma about her earrings. (That man is my father) .... Momma knew about friendship. She never lost contact with her best friend Pat, who she had met in elementary school. Pat was always like an Aunt to my sisters and I. I have many happy childhood memories of hanging out with Pat's kids. And they were sorta like cousins..
You know? When I was younger I thought I was more like my father (A good man himself) But I have come to understand that (Especially how my mind works) I have become more and more like my mother. It is not just the sayings I seem to have absorbed as a child that I found myself repeating to my kids. (Sometimes I say something and then think... Now that's my Momma talking) But also... I definitely have Momma's sensitivity and anxiety. And neither one of us have been very difficult to read. It's probably good that neither Momma nor I ever tried our hand at being professional poker players. We would have been terrible at bluffing. We wear our hearts on our sleeves and our thoughts on our faces. We spend a lot of times worrying about things we can't do anything about or what people think. We have a tough time letting go or leaving things be. Yet.. I keep going as best as I can and so did she. I never went hungry, Never felt unloved. When it came to the duties of being a mother, my Momma never once failed me. In a life with such terrible luck, one of my few good fortunes was having been born to her. I love you Momma..
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