Most of us have many wonderful and precious memories of Mother's Day...
...I know I have and I hope you have as well.
But have you ever come across a so-called memory that you don't even remember?
This is something I experienced this very week and it still has me puzzled.
A while back, as I was going through an old photograph album from my school days,
something fell out that had been tucked between the pages.
It was some folded up papers that were tattered and yellowed, sealed in a zip-lock sandwich bag.
So I opened it up and saw that it was a Mother's Day picture that I had made for Mom,
and stapled to it was a two-page handwritten note.
At the time I discovered it, I was up to my eyeballs with stuff.
I promptly set it aside to read later and then possibly blog about it for Mother's Day.
Y'all know how much I like to reflect on the good old days!
Long story short, I set it aside so well that I actually forgot all about it...
...until this week and then the hunt was on to find where I had put it.
I tore my craft room apart trying to locate it and finally, there it was, hiding in plain sight.
Oh I was so excited when I carefully opened that plastic bag and slipped it out,
taking great care to not tear those brittle folded papers.
I don't know how old I was when I when I wrote this.
Heck, I don't even remember writing it at all...
...all I know was that I still spelled my name with an "ie"...(Debby with a "y" came later).
When I had set my little discovery aside, I had then imagined it being a sweet and heartfelt letter...
...one that said all those things that we say to our moms on their special day.
You know, just oozing with all those loving expressions and declarations of our love for them.
And so I began reading what looked to be 3rd or 4th grade cursive handwriting.
It was just too much to get into the photos and very hard to read so here's what it said:
What Is A Family?
Take one husband, one wife, four walls, one small dog or stray cat; mix well; add a generous portion of time; and you are almost certain to have a family. The dog or cat isn't absolutely necessary for the recipe, but somehow or other it seems to give Mother Nature the right idea. (What??)
The family from Dad's point of view, could be the collection of people in the whole world--a pretty and efficient wife, a highly intelligent son, an angel of a daughter, a well behaved dog, and of course, himself -- very nearly handsome and has a real head for business....if only the rest of the family could have a little of Dad's intelligence. (Haha!)
Mother comes to view her family with fatalistic resignation. (fatalistic resignation...oh my) No matter how she slaves at cleaning, cooking, washing, polishing, sewing, mending or ironing, Dad will never notice it. Then there's Sonny...spends his Sunday School money for jelly beans...Sister getting phone calls from strange boys. If only the family would appreciate all that Mother does for them. Sonny thinks he has a keen family (keen...haven't heard that word since Leave it to Beaver)...it would be nice if Dad was a little smarter...able to make a kite that would fly. Mom is an angel (of course)--but a strict angel. Do this, run here, stop that, pick it up-- gosh! Sister? Well she's better than most girls. Sister is tenderly tolerant of her old-fashioned family. Dad is a lovable old man--easy to persuade with a smile and a kiss. Mother is just dear but so far behind the times....Sonny? Ugh! (poor Sonny)
When God made the family, He must have meditated a long time. The family must have food, shelter and clothing, and guidance, so there must be a mother. The family must not be dull, so there must be boy to shout and jump, run and get in the way. The family must not be forgotten, so there must be a girl, an angel who will make them so very, very proud.
The family is a storehouse in which the world's finest treasures are kept. The small pleasures, the great sorrows, the dreams of the world are contained within these four walls called HOME.
WHAT IN THE WORLD??!!
I have racked and racked my brain to try to remember myself writing these words,
let alone presenting it to my mom...needless to say it didn't come from my heart...or my own mind.
I can only guess that it must have been some sort of writing assignment.
How is it that I cannot even remember this at all?...
...me, who remembers so many trivial and minute details from my childhood?
Where has this memory-that's-not-a-memory been hiding all these years?
I may never know...or, it may come to me tomorrow!
All I know is that my mom undoubtedly got a big kick out of it!
As hokey as most of this little piece of prose sounds, especially in today's world,
the last paragraph tugged at my heartstrings, bigtime.
If the family is a storehouse then Mama must be the shopkeeper.
Happy Mother's Day!