Mrs. Teabody Remembers Mom

Mom holding oldest brother circa 1940


May is always the definition of bittersweet because while few months of the year can rival May in beauty and sheer unbridled vitality, May is also the anniversary of loss--today of Mrs. Teabody's mother in 1997 and Friday of Mrs. Teabody's father in 2006. Mrs. Teabody is one of many siblings--the middle child of seven - - and Mrs. Teabody counts her parents, her siblings and her geography as the three most important cornerstones of her life.

"Dorothy", "Dot", "Mom" was no shrinking violet. If truck manufacturers could isolate the gene that made her a successful mother of seven happy and resilient children, they would have "toughness" to talk about for decades. She was stubborn; she was opinionated; she could bake a cherry pie quick as a cat can wink his eye; her bread floated out of the oven ten inches tall, and her table was large enough to include anyone extra who dropped by; she never met a stranger; she believed with every thread of her being that all people are created equal; she knew when and why to say no in the best interests of her children; she lived in the moment; she worked crossword puzzles to the end and during those rare moments of idleness, she was never without a book in her hand. She valued education; it was her belief that no one should enter into a marriage without some sort of marketable skill - - -just in case. Money? It always took a back seat to fun, family and just knowing how to enjoy life.

Once a month  for the past ten years Mrs. Teabody and her siblings have met at the farm where they spent their formative years to share a meal together in the same kitchen of the cherry pies, the ten inches tall bread, around the table where everyone is equal and where there are no strangers.  And in that time of nearly sacred gathering, under the power of her boundless and everlasting love, her spirit remains as vital and nourishing as ever. Happy Mothers' Day, Mom! Thanks for everything!

Comments

  1. Just re-read this for the third time. The lump in my throat is begging to recede. My heart is filled with indelible memories of the sweetest kind. During my visits to see my parents, when you kids were off and about, I'd wander down to enjoy coffee, a cigarette, and some of the most wonderful conversations which ranged from world peace to keeping the milk cans cold. Thank you, dear Aunt Dorothy.

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  2. No wonder you and all your sibling turned out so splendidly!

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