Monday, August 6, 2012
Just Like My Momma
I have always hated my nose. Sitting on the left side right at the base is a mole. That mole is just like my mommas that sat at the right side of her chin. As a child and teen I saw it as a major flaw. I actually used wart remover once to get rid of it only to aggravate it and make it show out even more. I also had my momma's knees and they were not slender like my legs (also just like my mommas). They jutted out from under my skirt as two bald heads. I learned early in life that if you did not want people laughing at you then get them to laugh with you. I could make my knees move and drew faces on them and would make them slide up and down....yeah I know you had to be there to see it. I remember complaining to my mom about my knees and mole and she would always say, "you have my knees baby." Then she would lift her skirt hem and show me hers....and believe me that did not make me feel any better....it made me feel worse. I would slip off to my room and cry. I did not want a mole, I did not want my knees, and Lord I hoped I did not end up with her veiny feet. You see her veins popped up high above the skin level on both her hands and feet. I just prayed that that was one trait I did not get. Every time I looked at her mole I would touch mine and find them both extremely distasteful. I know I was a brat, an indignant teen who wanted to be like everyone else and not flawed. I was grateful that our skirts had to be long because that hid the bald men I called knees and I always showed my right profile so no one would notice the mole. Long past the years of my own teenage angst I looked at my own daughter and experienced her angst over things she got from me. Yep.....she has my knees(the little bald men smile up at her too0...but fortuneately she has no mole. I have aged....and the popping veins are evident on my feet and hands and there are the age spots looking up at me. I was sitting on my front porch today, the sun was shining down on my bald headed men legs. I touched my mole, looked at my veins and for a shining moment I was being held by my momma....and experiencing one of the best things my momma ever gave me.....the ability to feel loved....and I smiled. Happy Monday.
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2 comments:
We're all different ... and yet, we are all the same. I inherited some of the so-called flaws from my Mom too. I wish she were here. I would rub those rough feet of hers and thank her for all the ways she loved me too. A mother's love. Our memories can never be taken, can they?
Oh how I understand.
I have my Mom's hands - they are a little crepey and yes, a bit veiny, but they are exactly like my Moms and they make me smile. I still have my Mom but having her hands helps me think of her often. I totally "get it"!
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