Tuesday, July 28, 2015

MAMMA'S LESSONS IN LIFE

   Lately I've been thinking a lot about the gifts my mom gave me. These were neither store-bought nor handmade gifts lovingly placed in beautifully wrapped packages. These gifts are far more valuable and long lasting. Like other gifts, some have been in "storage" for a while, but there are occasions when, like the decorations for a Christmas tree, I remember a particular ornament, there comes a special moment when one of Mamma's gifts is exactly fitting. I'm speaking of "Mamma's Lessons In Life", many of which were verbal, but others were taught by the way she lived as well.  
     Recently as I talked with some ladies, I was reminded that no matter how hard, bad, sad the circumstance, after sharing deep and true heartfelt empathy, from equally as far down in the depths of her loving heart, Mamma would find a way to help show a softer, better, more cheerful turn of the same situation. A good example was Daddy’s sudden passing from a heart attack. People said, "You mean Mrs. Libby, don't you?" It was a natural reaction because she was the one who had been in poor health. After the severe shock had worn off, Mamma’s attitude was, " It was better this way. If he had had a stroke, I couldn't have taken care of him, and that would have bothered him so much." She could always see a reason to be thankful. I don't know for sure, but I suspect it goes back to her having learned it at the side of her dad whom she called "Papa".  She often mentioned their relationship as being much like that of Laura and Charles Ingalls of "Little House On The Prairie" fame. 
     I learned responsibility through her giving me my own household duties although as I look back, she probably should have assigned more. I suppose she saw school and my babysitting as my main jobs, but if she asked or told me to do something, she didn't generally have to repeat it . . . although there was that one time when I, probably 12 or 13, asked, " Where are the goldfish?"
    "I wondered when you'd notice," was her response. "They died a week ago."  Oops.
      She gave me the gifts of laughter and words by telling funny stories, some true ones about family of the generations of her grandparents, creating such images that I could well imagine even some of their physical features. Though I’d obviously never have the opportunity to meet some, she brought them so to life that the longing lingers to this day. I’d so love to meet the grandfather whose word meant more to his neighbors than pure gold! Some of my favorite tales came from her own imagination, including the most amazing things our cat did and "said" from day to day while I was at school.  In addition, there were entertaining poems she'd memorized from her own school assignments. She gave me the gifts of song as she sang along with the radio, or would ask me to sing with her. Her talent for harmony was sweet to hear. That natural gift for music extended to her ability to fill the house with beautiful piano music. No money for lessons? Teach yourself was her way! I see a little bit of that in me, though more in venues other than music.
     She gave me the gift of encouragement by making sure I made use of my talents and abilities. I recall being 8 or 9 years old, sitting at a chalkboard that was on a stand, doing some fancy lettering. The effusive praise she gave may have been from surprise at how impressed she truly was! I was as well, so that made two of us! With the fancy letter-art craze of late, I've started to try the lettering again. Maybe I can make up for lost time and regain what may be a true talent! Without her reaction that very day, it's likely I'd have forgotten some of the pleasures of creating with chalk, pencil, paper, compass, crayons, glue, and scissors in that little house in the country. 
    One day I was home from school because I had come down with a cold. She asked if I’d like to learn to crochet and voilà! gone was the boredom of the day! In later years while working at a craft store, I used that gift to teach others including a left-handed lady who challenged me with, "I've tried three times and no one has been able to teach me."  I promised her if she took the class, I could teach her . . . and I did! Since I knew how the hook should feel in my hand, how to do the stitches, I taught myself left-handed crochet first! That way I could show the exact steps of crochet without aid of confusing mirrors, etc. After the third week's lesson, she went home having learned how to crochet. 
     Mamma also seemed proud of the neat way I wrapped Christmas packages and I loved doing them! I later learned she was really NOT fond of wrapping, so methinks her praise of my joy-filled work was two-fold! Mamma was like that, yeah she was!
     I don't know for sure what is the cause of so many sudden Mamma-Memories other than several recent opportunities to share some of the gifts she has given me. The gift of wordiness is one she and I shared. After reading this, you will be able to choose whether or not you call it a gift! 
      Thank you for the many gifts you shared with me, Mamma.
In loving memory:
Susie O. Libby, happily known as "Mimi" July 29,1904-March 1,1996
M Sue
7- 28-15


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