Remembering Mama

When I remember mama, I think of music, poetry, modesty, and good language. An early memory is sitting on her lap waiting to take the last sip of tea from her pretty china cup. Another is trying to keep up with her as we trekked to town. My brother and I firmly believed she could win any walking race ever invented.

Because mama had been trained as a classical singer at the University at Tomsk in Siberia, she made music a part of our lives. Singing and playing the piano was a favorite evening entertainment. Once she told of singing at a benefit concert where the great pianist Paderewski performed. Her thrill came when he complimented her, saying, “You have a lovely voice.”

Less glamorously, I remember mama’s hands.  They weren’t the long, slim hands you’d immediately associate with an artist.  They were square, hard-working, passionate hands that could put in a garden, scrub clothes on a washboard, or soothe a sick child’s fever. That touch, even when I was a mother myself, eased every ache and pain. Her unconditional love has provided a firm foundation for every dream pursued, every dream realized.  Happy Mother’s Day, Mom!

Published in: on May 8, 2011 at 5:00 am  Comments (8)  

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8 CommentsLeave a comment

  1. What a lovey tribute to your mother!

  2. Oh, lovely, Alice! Thanks for sharing this.

  3. That was wonderful. I was just thinking about grandma last night…

  4. Oh Alice, this is beautiful.

  5. Lisa, Paige, Chris, and Pat, thank you for your warm comments on this post. It’s good to remember our mothers, isn’t it? They give us so much more than life.

  6. What a lovely tribute, Thanks for sharing! happy Mothers Day!

  7. Such touching rememberances. I think we all have certain “scenes” of our mothers that we cherish and replay.

  8. Rose, I so appreciate your comments. It is true, isn’t it, how we remember scenes and memories from childhood where our mothers were the suns we revolved around. Thanks.

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