The Season for Reminiscing

I guess it’s because of the holiday season that my mind is on food and who’s cooking.

It’s a puzzlement to me that I can only remember one meal that my mother cooked. I recall that the meal was very special even though there was no special occasion. She was just in the mood to cook something that we had never eaten before.

This was a rare treat that I longed to have repeated, but between her migraines, moods, and messy life, there was no time for simple necessities such as cooking. And further, she didn’t like to eat. Just toast and tea for breakfast, and if she decided to eat something in the evening it would be just a bit of food and more tea. With more than a little disdain for someone who she thought was eating too much, she would say, “We’re supposed to eat to live, not live to eat.”

Though my reminisces about my mother might seem harsh and unforgiving sometimes, I believe that the migraines, moods, and messiness of her life were the result of emotional and physical abuse, as well as a life that fell far short of her potential and ambitions.

From what she told me of her very early years, it is obvious to me that she had many gifts. As early as five years of age, when she first became a babysitter, she said that she understood that she was supposed to work hard, love, and have faith in God. I believe that she tried to do this.

Being an only child of sharecroppers “way back in the woods,” as she described where they lived, she had few interactions with other children. Her companions were animals found near where she lived. Instead of a dog like children usually have, she had a pig that she loved and was devastated when it was finally slaughtered for food.

During those early years, her only playmate as she referred to him, was a boy shunned and abused by other children because of the way he looked and his inability to speak normally. When others did not know what the little boy was trying to say, she would translate for him.

From what she told me, it seems that she had an innate sense for understanding both animals and humans and a natural empathy for those who were seen as outsiders or mistreated.

My mother had many virtues and attributes that one would only know by listening to her talk about her life. When I listened to her, I always got the sense that she thought that she was never loved enough.

During this holiday season, I want to think about her and be grateful that she was my mother. I hope that some of the goodness that was innate in her has been gifted to me.