Today is an day of other writings. This is a post I've been saving for awhile, and I figured now is as good of a day as any. So, without further adieu, here is yet another entry.
My mother was not a profound speaker. I tried to recall some words of wisdom she instilled in me, and I could not think of anything earth-shattering. However, my mother was a woman of love. It was obvious in her every word and action. She loved her children, she loved her family, she loved her friends and she loved life. She was not perfectly content with things as they were, but she did seem to embody perfection.Perhaps it is just the musing of a man who lost his mother before the developing stages of puberty. As children we find perfection in all people, and somewhere along the way we turn and learn to criticize. That is the curse of humankind. I still see my mother as perfect, and that has greatly influenced my life.There were a few constants in my life. These things led me to believe in perfection. They were not major things, but the small events that form a child's mind. For example, I know that my mom would sing "Monday, Monday" almost every week, and she would also sing "I Shot the Sheriff." She also sang "Joy to the World (Jeremiah Was a Bullfrog)." These songs made me believe in something magical. This mysterious idea of song leads me to depend on music today.I learned to love my qualities through watching my mother love me. I was her left-handed, blond boy with eager blue-gray eyes. She wanted us to learn piano because she knew the solace it offered her and wanted the same for all of her children. My brother was a spitting image of her father, and his responsibile nature and wonder and creativity led her to love him deeply. And my sister. Elizabeth was, no, is her little girl with the curly hair and a curious mind. She knew perfection was in her children, and as we all grew up, we forgot that. We lost her to cancer, and we thought about the cruelties of life. We lost our innocence too early, but we still try to hold onto it.We never asked to be motherless. We never dreamed to be motherless. But in the end, we were. Our mother was not a profound speaker, but she still inspires us in our lives. She lived life profoundly, and she loved profoundly.We've drifted apart since then. I don't see my siblings very often, and we don't talk a lot. However, we are all connected because we were loved by the same mother. Wherever our paths may lead in life, I still know we can and will depend on our childhood.Although the body may die, the spirit will know life eternal, and in her children a mother will live on. I can only hope that I live the life she would have wanted.