Written for Fandango’s One-Word Challenge (FOWC) – repeat
*Today has been eleven years since my Mom died and I still miss her like crazy. This is just one example of “repeat” for things she would do with me. I really miss those games. We would listen to music and laugh… good memories I hope I will never lose.
He walked down the corridor to the room at the end. The door was shut and he softly knocked on it. A distant voice answered, “Just a minute.” Apartment 9 was where his Mother lived. He hadn’t seen her for almost a year as his job had sent him out of state. She didn’t know it was him at the door.
She opened the door with the chain on still and was about to ask who it was when she let out a scream. “Johnny! You’re home!” She shut the door, ripped off the chain and flung open the door. “Why didn’t you call, I would have had dinner ready for you.”
“No Mom, tomorrow is Mother’s Day so I am home to take you out to dinner.”
“You have always been so good to me Johnny. Come in and sit down. How have you been?”
“Wait a minute. We have reservations for 6 o’clock so you need to grab your coat and purse and come with me.”
“Oh, I need to change. I am not dressed for going out.”
“Mom, you look as beautiful as always.”
I hope all you Moms, want to be Moms, and Dad’s who are Moms too, have a wonderful Mother’s Day tomorrow. And a special wish to those without their Moms or children… know this is still a special day of remembrance. HAPPY Mother’s Day!
Written for Fandango’s One-Word Challenge (FOWC) – corridor
This prompt was original posted on Oct 30th… that would have been my mom’s birthday. Since she was such a big fan of Queen the fact that I instantly thought of this song’s lyrics was meant to be. “… recommended at the price, insatiable an appetite, wanna try?”
For Fandango’s One-Word Challenge (FOWC) – insatiable
A fun fact… most of the big ones I have at some time covered with a portion of a post. So, I am going back to a special thing I did that I can barely remember but I had a love hate relationship with it. Back in the day (early 70s), at least around here, there was a class you could take through parks and rec that was a skill I have used zero times in my life.
Both my sister and I took a class for baton twirling. It was very big for baton twirlers to be at the state fair talent search, and the occasional marching band, but your average citizen does not need that skill. I loved the class because my mom used to twirl a baton in her marching band and made it look so easy. I wanted to be just like mom.
Gravity had other plans for me and I dropped the baton more times than I caught it. And there were the bruises from this metal stick with heavy rubber knobs on it falling and hitting me in various places. I was black and blue all over my arms.
Now in 2020, nearly 50 years later, I wonder if any towns still offer classes like that for kids in the summer or any time of year really. Of course now a days, you would get a visit from child protective services if you had a child with that many bruises. It was an experience that was not a life changer, but I can look back and smile at how hard I tried to be like mom.
Written for Fandango’s Dog Days of August (FDDA) #24 – a fun fact
She sat next to her mom on the couch. Her mom was crocheting an afghan and she was holding the skein of yarn, pulling more out when needed. She liked to “help” her mom crochet. She could get underneath the afghan as it grew longer and make silly patterns with the yarn as she pulled it out. But she had to be careful not to get it tangled up, mom did not like that.
That memory was crystal clear this cold winter night. Sharon was missing the warmth of the afghan but not as much as she missed her mom.
Of Millie, Mom and me
Marvel at the miracle
Made mingling at the mall
Stories stuffed with sadness
So sorry someone suffered
She should have survived longer
She should have seen success
But denied disease deteriorates
Daughter’s delicate Mom
Done dancing and doubled up laughing
Death dons dresses
Does not dally
… melancholy memories
Sadness strikes dawning day
Written for Fandango’s One-Word Challenge (FOWC) – melancholy