Tuesday, December 11, 2012

Finally Home, Finally a Moment

My gosh, it has been weeks since I wrote.  I tried several times to add to my Thread while I was in Alabama but it was hopeless from Mother's place there on the top of her mountain.  She and her husband, Gene, shared their love and their passions while living on 26 acres of land that they reclaimed from a watermelon patch.  Twenty five years later there are raspberries, blackberries, muscadines, blueberries, persimmons, peaches, figs, etc etc growing where they lovingly planted them along with thousands of pines, wildflowers, hardwoods and anything else they could stick in the ground.  They also planted rusty old cars, trucks, lawnmowers, and tractors, in that same yard along side a home they never felt the need to finish.  Mother and Gene were way too busy doing far more interesting things.  They cooked meals for the homeless, rescued injured birds and released them back to nature, were members of the volunteer fire department, recycled, and traveled, driving the back roads instead of the interstate, loving the beauty of the world from the stars to the bottom of the ocean.

Eleven years ago, at the age of 82, Mother called me saying, "Dianne, I want to buy a beach house. I figure better late than never.  Can you go with me?"

"Mother, I work, remember?  How about we go during Spring Break?"

"Can you get away next week?" she asked.  "We will just go to look and see what is available."  Three days after going down there, just to look, she bought a house.  Our next summer was the best, ever.  Talk about power shopping, we furnished an entire house from the bathrooms, to the bedrooms to the kitchen, in two weeks.  We filled eight carts at Wal-Mart, saw a sign advertising great wicker furniture in Atlanta so we hopped in the car and bought furniture in Georgia, found incredible finds, great bargains, and giggled the entire time.  We would fill the car until we could barely fit in it ourselves, drive home and unload it so we could start all over, again.  For the next eleven years, we spent many great times there, walking on the beach, gathering shells, driftwood, and memories. 

Now, we will be heading down there in two weeks, this time to cast her ashes to the place she loved so much, adding her ashes to our baby sister's.  When does it stop hurting so much?


  1. Wow! Read what you wrote and I think you will hurt just a teensy bit less. What a beautiful tribute to your mom, which must have been an amazing woman! It doesn't stop hurting, really - I still miss my mom and occasionally tear up after 9 years. I think we just put a lot of batting around it and cope. Lots of love and karma coming your way, and wishes for the ability to deal with the holidays after such tragedies.