Memory of a mother

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It is almost impossible for me to see a rose and it not trigger a memory of my mother.  She loved them.  She often tucked a rosebud in her chignon.  I don’t recall vases of flowers indoors.  My mother preferred wearing them.

As June is a month of celebration in memory of my parents’ respective birth anniversary, I thought I’d share my mother’s advice.

Be hospitable to all those who grace your home
Share like you have plenty to give
Be generous in thought and the practice will be easy
Smile even when you are hurting
Revenge is best left off the menu
Work hard for yourself, harder for those less fortunate
Say your prayers every day
Being rude says more about you, than the issue
Always wear clean underwear
Always sleep on clean sheets
Never go to bed angry
Pure silk and pearls never go out of fashion
Immodesty is not sexy
Pay your own way
Be a good in-law
Friendship is precious

Oddly enough I was never close to my mother.  Although beloved by all who knew her, her gift to them was her warmth and accessibility.  The child in me found her unattainable.

Always her silent student, her values continue to resonate with me.  Perhaps, therein lies the legacy.

Until next time

As always

a dawn bird

2 thoughts on “Memory of a mother”

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