Browsing Tag

#MotherMurder

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Blog, Lessons From My Mother

Don’t forget to remeber the little things…

Mom–THIS is what it was like for you and I.. For I remember… My first memories are of you holding me during Hurricane Hazel–singing to me and tickling me-to make me laugh… Farther down of you milking Bossy the cow and squirting me with warm milk–making me laugh… I remember you letting me stand on a chair and showing me how to peel potatoes–and hold the mixer to make cake batter– Jump to age 13 when i got braces and you made me green peppers stuffed with cottage cheese and other special lunches just for me– Then me as a mid teen when we used to sit on your bed on Sundays and read novels together…. And then how you helped me on my wedding day by throwing a grand soirée at the farm for the reception. .. And then how OROUD you were of me when your grandson, my first son, child of your child, come to us From there it was woman to woman—for you gave me that respect.. And I finally felt sooo grown up.. Until I was 29…you, only 49…and then you were gone.. Mothermurder Thank you–for being you… Your Pammy….Your J…

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Poetry

The loss of a mother can never be replaced…..

“Incredulously” Who could have known? Who could have guessed? Who could ever think that the most important soul to us ALL would be taken in violent murder in five days, those many years ago? 1978! Self-same day as the |Jonestown Massacre. Who could believe, if someone said it was coming, that the one who we all assume will be there for us ’til our own end will, instead, be stolen? Wouldn’t we all pooh-pooh it if we thought that Gramma would never again bake her famous cookies for your kids.. spoil them rotten with her devoted love of them? Who could imagine she would never again gladly provide an ear, a non-judgemental ear for you in the middle of the night when you just ..needed her? I couldn’t.. But it happened.. Pamela.. 13/11/15 post script–My precious Momma was 49..I had just turned 29, 12 days before her death.

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Poetry

November–my oxymoranic month…

I REALIZE YOU CAN’T like THIS POEM- PER SAY– But I MADE A PROMISE TO MYSELF AND TO HER TO HONOUR MY MOTHER every November 1st —AND HER LIFE AND UNTIMELY DEATH when she was only 49–me 29–IN words–as a writer and poet…. I know my siblings feel the same.. ALL I CAN ADD IS THIS.. WE DON’T Always get along with our moms..but— we must never take the lady who birthed us for granted.. or disregard her– or fail to love and cherish her.. For we never know how or when she will leave our lives forever… ~~~November –The Trickster Oh, November. You are back. The month of oxymoron and counterfeit happiness. Oh, yes I well remember the giddiness of it all when I was a kid; all pig-tailed, naive excitement. Childish dreams painted pictures in my fertile mind then, those decades ago. Dreams of the MOST fabulous gift ever in THIS birthday.. for FABULOUS was my word of the month when I was, say nine on this day. November 1st. My middle-brother and I share this month, birthday-wise. But he was and is such a giving soul That he always let me be singular in my cake selection. […]

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Blog

Hashtag MotherMurder

“Incredulously” Who could have known? Who could have guessed? Who could ever think that the most important soul to us ALL would be taken in violent murder in five days. Who could believe, if someone said it was coming, that the one who we all assume will be there for us ’til our own end will, instead, be stolen? Wouldn’t we all pooh-pooh it if we thought that Gramma would never again bake her famous cookies for your kids.. spoil them rotten with her devoted love of them? Who could imagine she would never again gladly provide an ear, a non-judgemental ear for you in the middle of the night when you just ..needed her? I couldn’t.. But it happened.. Pamela.. 13/11/15 post script–My precious Momma was 49..I had just turned 29, 12 days before her death. @BoomerNovel

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Blog, Poetry

MotherMurder

“Incredulously” Who could have known? Who could have guessed? Who could ever think… that the most important soul to us ALL would be taken in violent homicide in five days. Who could believe, if someone said it was coming, that the one who we all assume will be there for us til our own end will , instead, be stolen? Wouldn’t we all pooh-pooh it if we thought that Gramma would never again bake her famous cookies for your kids.. spoil them rotten with her devoted love of them? Who could imagine she would never again gladly provide an ear, a non-judgemental ear for you in the middle of the night when you just ..needed her? I couldn’t.. But it happened.. Pamela.. 13/11/15 ***post script–My precious Momma was 49..I had just turned 29, 12 days before her death

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Poetry

#MotherStealer

~~~November –The Trickster Oh, November. You are back. The month of oxymoron and counterfeit happiness. … Oh, yes I well remember the giddiness of it all when I was a kid; all pigtailed, naïve excitement. Childish dreams painted pictures in my fertile mind then, those decades ago. Dreams of the MOST fabulous gift ever in THIS birthday.. for FABULOUS was my word of the month when I was, say nine on this day. November 1st. My middle-brother and I share this month, birthday-wise. But he was and is such a giving soul That he always let me be singular in my cake selection. Momma used to make me a fancy, coconut covered bunny with quarters and dimes and nickels stealthily wrapped in waxed paper so the searchers for treasure didn’t bite down and chip our teeth. And we never did! OHHH, I shiver as I remember the glorious mystery!! Who would get the QUARTER?! And ME? I was beside myself. So dramatic I was back then and yet so appreciative of what she would choose THIS year. It was always PERFECT! Exactly what I needed for that moment on the anniversary of my birth. Our most important battle together my […]

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