I Remember

By

Hydie Varner

            I remember a box of hand-me-downs from my cousin Georgienne arrived at the house one day. Adele and I tore into it like two wildfires in mesquite scrub, trying things on, and making piles. Georgienne always sends really neat stuff, they usually fit, and a lot of the things still have the tags on them, a definite plus. Halfway through the box something caught my eye. I reached in and pulled out a piece of bright blue and green material, kinda 50’s, most definitely once belonged to my mother.

            I recognized it at once. At one time there was a shifty looking frock to go with it. I remember she used to wear it with sandals or no shoes at all. My mother was tall, very pretty and used to wear that dress a lot. How strange a thing to remember, when I remember so little else, like the sound of her voice or her face.

            I remember playing a game with my mother, lying on her bed, seeing who could be quiet the longest. This was a trick for getting us to take a nap. In no time at all we were asleep. How crafty she was.

            I remember Warner and I pouring wine out of a gallon bottle, adding back water, then replacing the bottle under the kitchen sink. How crafty we were.

            I remember this strange infatuation I had with my baby book, packing it around like a highly cherished toy. I remember it being empty, like I had no infancy to put into it.

I remember sneaking into the living room on days she used to host her bridge parties. I remember taking mints from the dishes on the card tables.

            I remember having Brownie meetings at our house and doing something with pine cones, though I can’t quite remember what it was. Years later, Susie Coonce (fellow Brownie and Friend) told me I behaved badly during those meetings.

            I remember Warner and I being tucked into bed at night, only to sneak out to watch T.V. in the doorway of my parents bedroom and falling asleep. A good memory.

            I remember my mother wearing shorts and halter top, doing yard work and collecting night crawlers. I remember Jake running into the house, needing my help – something was terribly wrong – and I remember being no help at all. I remember looking down at the crude electrical device planted in the yard that took her life, wondering what had happened. I remember the state of confusion that followed the neighbors, doctor and ambulance appearing from nowhere and I remember knowing, in my heart that nothing could be done. She was gone.

            I remember that look on my father’s face. I remember how lost we were. What was he to do with four young children? What was he to do without her? Now, years later, the four children are grown and doing fine. After 28 years I can now, just miss her, no longer does it cause such pain as before. I keep thinking: it’s just a phase you’re going through, you’ll be filled with that familiar old guilt before you know it. Back to your regular old self in no time.

            But that did not happen… my heart and spirit are no longer burdened with those feelings of guilt and helplessness. God took them from me after 28 years… I remember sitting in a church pew in North Dakota long after servies were over with tears streaming down my face in the company of a couple I had just met. We cried, we prayed, we cried some more. I was exhausted. Mark asked for a vision, but what I received was a miracle. The chains of guilt I had carried with me always fell away and were gone.

            I still think about my mother (always will) but it’s different now. I still remember all the things I’ve always known only now it doesn’t hurt like it used to. I wonder ~ would she have liked me? Would we have become great friends? Who knows?

            A few years later Adele and I were upstairs going through a closet and she pulled out my mother’s mink jacket. I recognized it at once. I remember playing dress up and wearing that fur with a black cocktail dress. I’ve often wondered what had happened to all her things. Somewhere, mixed up in all my belongings, there is a piece of bright blue and green material that I have saved, kinda 50’s, that once belonged to my mother… for her there are some things I’ve learned…

While we are here on this earth there are lessons to be learned. Sometimes we get it, and sometimes we don’t, and sometimes it takes a while…

Lessons…

Memories are more precious when they are few…

The Golden Rule is a good one…

We all deserve to be happy…

All things happen for a reason…

Telling the truth is sometimes much harder than telling a lie…

We need to let those we love know we love them. Anything can happen…

Absence really does make the heart grow fonder…

Family and friends are the only things that really matter…

Sooner or later we are all responsible for our own actions…

Sometimes… reality sucks…

It is best to forgive…

We really do take it only one day at a time…

If you have a talent or passion you should nurture it…

You should never go to bed mad… at anyone or anything…

You should always make the best out of a not so good situation…

Life really is what we make of it…

With the sunshine there is always some rain…

What sounds trite in the above sounds that way because it is so obviously true…everyone repeats it.