Mommy memory! This one came to me easy today due to circumstances that happened last night. My mom was an extremely crafty lady. She sewed, paper crafted, crocheted, and most of all was a wonderful painter.
Yesterday, we were in the store buying stuff to sew my son's scout patches on his shirt. Ok, never mind glue them on because lets face it I don't sew, I am not my momma! As we were there my son who is 9 got tears in his eyes. Asking what was wrong he said that section of Walmart and buying the sewing stuff reminded him of his gramma and how talented she was and how much he missed her. My heart hurt for him so much and how do I make him better when I hurt too? So we finished up our shopping and went home. He was increasingly grumpy that night and finally we had to sit down and chat. Told him that sometimes we have to cry, or think about Gramma or even write about it to feel better. He worked on it, my little man got out a pad of paper and started writing, bless his heart he might have a little of me in him yet.
So happy memories. Mom was talented, as I said and she always too the time to sit down with us and involve us. My fondest memory is painting with her. We sat down and painted a stick horse (fancy pretty cute) and framed it. I am terrible but my mom helped me finesse it and I still have it to this day. Her ability to catch amazing eyes on animals and things of that nature was not passed down to me, but her help on my project made it passable. It provided an amazing opportunity to sit at the table and talk with her and even better at that time, play with her paints and brushes.
Anytime I decided to take on a project it never failed that I had to either take it to mom or call her for help on it. Everything from sewing pillows to paper crafting. She was patient and understanding and knew how to fix everything. EXCEPT for my oldest sister Shannon, we decided she would never be allowed near a sewing machine again, it was hopeless and mom refused. It became a good natured fun teasing point of family conversations.
Many people all over our state have some of mom's creations, most specifically Christmas decor that she painted and it is amazing to know that a part of her will live on in those.
As for my boys and me, I will never be talented in the way she was but I can keep trying and I can keep patting their heads as they have certain things remind them of her and it knocks them on their butts. I know it hurts, I can hug them and not tell them its ok just that they aren't alone. I can try to pass on some of her talents to them and one day they might have the artistic ability she did. They can connect through all of the things she has made for us that we still treasure.
I will always have a picture of my mom in my head of her bent over the table painting away, usually in a favorite denim shirt with splatters of paint on her hands, probably her shirt and sometimes even her face, typical french braid in her hair and forever looking for her glasses. Its so vivid today that visual is actually make me smile. :D
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