Written by the TreasureGuide for the exclusive use of treasurebeachesreport.blogspot.com.
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Happy Mother's Day
From the TreasureGuide
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Easter Sunday I took my 93-year-old mother to church. While we waited for church to begin, once again she told the story about how I crawled up under the pews when I was a baby. She caught me by the leg before I got too far. That seems to be one of her favorite stories.
That was over seventy years ago. We are now a thousand miles away, but we could both still see it in our minds as if we were watching it take place all over again.
The two-story church built in the 1840s was one of those old-style churches: two tall stories with towering spires, huge stained glass windows, fine carpentry and huge organ pipes that filled the wall behind the pulpit.
Downstairs was the nursery with its yellow table and short little chairs that were barely off the ground, and in the corner was a yellow sandbox elevated on legs. Right next door was a elegant Victorian sitting room with padded chairs, lace curtains and speakers connected to the sanctuary by wires for the elderly who couldn't make it up the tall stairway to the sanctuary.
I can see it so well because every Sunday from the time I could crawl until I went off to college, I attended with my family.
When I crawled up under the pews my mother and father were kids of 22. Mom was a very shy country hick that had never been much of anywhere. Little things were a big deal, but dad had been most of the way around the world during WW II. He has been gone for over ten years now.
My mother also told me once again how the ladies always wore hats to church. She's told that a number of times too. Things have changed.
Her memory isn't as sharp as it once was, and she struggles to keep some of the past alive. We shared much of that past, and we are the only ones left that can share those special memories today.
Whether because of her eyes or unsteady legs, she doesn't walk very confidently, and I take her by the hand, like she once took mine.
It has been a lot of years, but in a way it seems more like minutes. It only takes one step to go from the nursery to the seniors room, and one more from the sitting room to the stairway upstairs.
Me: I'm a grey-haired oldster now, and I try to take care of her, but I know it can't be too many more times that I'll be able to take her to church - or anywhere. But those memories will live on with me.
Today is indeed the day.
Happy Mother's Day.
