Missing My Mom

Inspired by Debbie’s One Word Sunday: Missing and Marilyn’s dedication to her mother, I decided to create my own post/dedication to my own mother, who I miss so much!

My mom told me so many great stories. She told me about going to school wearing dresses made of feed sacks, eating onion sandwiches with mustard as a high treat, talking like Marilyn Monroe at the bars to make the men swoon, and jumping out the bathroom window if their swooning was too intense.

My mother was a Democrat, but she believed in her share of conspiracy theories. She often told the story of how Lyndon Johnson had his fingers in his ears when Kennedy was shot. I also remember she voted for Nixon in ’68. I think that was more my father’s influence, and truth be told I voted for Regan once, myself, so I suppose we all make mistakes. 😉

My mother, whether she meant to be or not, was my biggest political influence. Through her divorce my father refused to support us, letting the state take care of it. I’m not trying to trash talk my dad. I miss him too, but it is what it is, those were different times, and I was just a kid.

But, that too, probably influenced both of us more than anything. Relying on that support, knowing the depths of desperation and humiliation it takes to do so was a big influence on me. My brother and sister were younger and grew up unaware. It just always was for them. That might be the difference. I’m not sure.

There is so much more to tell but I am not sure this is the time or the place. I want this for my kids….

I miss my mom so much. I can’t even tell you. She was just about my age when she died and I know for a fact (now) it was way too young. I didn’t even really appreciate her much. I’m grateful for the time we had, but really, it wasn’t enough. I feel cheated but I don’t dwell on that, instead I just want to be here a little longer for my own kids. I know I am annoying but I also know, they will miss me when I am gone.


7 thoughts on “Missing My Mom

  1. Well Done, Dawn…
    Such a nice way to honor the memory of your mom – and hearing bits of your story reminds me that so much in life is handed to us – and our “lot” in life isn’t always glamorous – mine wasn’t – but it is “ours” To embrace and celebrate –

    And the photo of you st six months with your mother – great shot! And I like her hat and outfit –


  2. When they die before we are ourselves mature, there is always a piece of us that wants to go back and say “Look, I turned out okay. You helped make me who I am and I will always love you.” And to just share the stories of the lives we live with the one person who would really “get” you.

    I was 36 when my mother died and that was too young — and of course I’d been gone for six years, by then too … so I really only had her until I was 30. I don’t think I really grew up until I was in my forties.

    The missing never really ends, but you do get used to it. Sometimes we talk in dreams, but they ARE dreams, not visions.

    Liked by 1 person

  3. Pingback: Power – Travel with Intent

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