Their red stone cottage was nestled within the Beggs town proper, not too far from a water tower that, from our angle, read: EGGS. I noticed ivy gracing the home’s outside walls as I stood on the porch and knocked, only waiting a moment before Jill answered the door. Continue reading EPOTM: Beggs, OK→
As my blade makes its way through a cool, ripe Stilwell strawberry, I breathe in the heady sweetness wafting upwards and across my face.
It’s Mother’s Day, and I’ve just returned from a two-day road trip to places I’ve not been, visiting with people I’ve only just met, with one daughter at my side.
A gathering of family on Mother’s Day brought my other daughter to my side accompanied by her man. Along with them came my husband, and we all celebrated his mother by eating food she had prepared for us on the day she should have rested, and received.
The berries for our dessert had been left behind, so we joyfully ate cake with whipped topping and drank our tea.
Tonight in my own kitchen, as I finish cleaning the berries previously selected for today’s dessert, I close my eyes and remember the slice of homemade pound cake with orange glaze. I pretend to spoon my just-prepared berries over the cake, lift a full bite to my mouth, and enjoy the sweet goodness of Mother’s Day.
Thank you, God, for my own mother who helped me learn to prepare food, for my mother-in-law who prepared our food today, for my two daughters who are standing on their own as they continue to prepare food leaps and bounds over my historical 20-something capacity. Thank you, God, for the sweet goodness of Mother’s Day.
This is Mother’s Weekend. I’m pausing my new series on addiction to write for Mother’s Day. I have gone to The Source . . . Mom. I called my parents phone number in Apache, a very familiar number; it’s been their number for 50 years.
Saturday morning, 7:30am.
Me: Hi Mom, how are you this morning?
Mom: Oh, just getting around to help with a funeral dinner. (followed by a discussion of the community of Apache, friends, and small talk)
Me: Mom, I’m writing my Red Dirt Chronicles article for the weekend and I want to interview you, is that okay?
Mom: Um, well alright, if you need to.
Me: How long have you been a mom?
Mom: How old are you?
Me: 56
Mom: There ya go, I’ve been a mom for 56 years and 10 days.
Me: How many kids do you have?
Mom: Three.
Me: So, what’s the big deal about being a mom, I mean, what is the blessing?
Mom: Oh wow, there are so many. (pause) You know, I think the best part is just being ‘Momma’. When the kids are little they need you and depend on you. Getting to be Momma and take care of all the little things, that’s a blessing. Then, when your kids get older there’s just a lot of pride.