My mother, Irene, bore 8 children in a 12 year span. I was the
7th out of 8 and the last girl.
Mother, as we all called her, was a stay at home mom until my
brother and I were in Kindergarten and 1st grade respectively. She
spent her whole life taking care of, and raising eight strong and
independent children. She worked in my elementary school as a
librarian, and in my middles school as an aide. She was well liked
by the children and the staff and she did special things all the time
to make you feel loved and cared for.
She was a great cook and an incredible baker. She took cake
decorating courses to make cakes that would bring a smile to your
face. Never once did she complain about the time it took to make
half a doll body look like a princess. She would read us books. She
would brush my hair every time I sat in front of her with hairbrush
in hand. She was my protector, my healer, the one who comforted my
and gave me confidence.
She used to ask every day, "Did I meet anyone that I like better
than myself?" I never understood if I was supposed to say yes or no
but I did know that the question made me think about who I had talked
to and if they made an impact on me. Maybe she wanted to know if I
made an impact on another.
Some times I wonder why God felt it necessary to take her from
me before she got a chance to see my children grow or to see me
mature as a human being. Why did she get a disease that robbed her
of her mind and her emotions when they were the substance of who she
was. Alzheimer's took my Mother from me. There was a point when she
no longer knew who I was. Such sadness to have the woman who cared
for you all of your life forget your name. Towards the end she
became Irene, she was no longer Mother and I was a stranger to her.
Each of us has a story about our mothers. The women who brought
us into the world or the women who raised us as our own. Good or
bad, our lives are affected in a significant way. It was blessing to
have a mother who loved me with her whole being. She was kind and
she taught me to be appreciative and affectionate and considerate.
She was smart, and she taught me how to love reading and writing and
she made me believe that it was important to let people know when
things were right as well as when things were wrong. She gave
compliments freely. She made cookies and hot chocolate and had us
sing Christmas carols. She was good to me when I brought a stray dog
home or when I broke a jar filled with tadpoles.
She was a mother, the only one I knew, the one who taught me to
be spiritual and who showed me love. As she looks down from Heaven,
I want her and all the other mothers to know that they made a
difference.
Your love is unique and no one can take your place. I send
Blessings to all mothers, and to mine specifically, for the the
goodness of their souls and for the life they gave us. May they be
forever blessed.
~ Karen Carroll ~
<mndlvme at msn.com>
Copyright © 2009
All Rights Reserved
Karen lives in Central New Jersey with her 3 daughters, 2 dogs and a
cat who loves to cuddle and then take a nip of your arm. She says,
"Family life is hectic and wonderful and memories of my parents who
are long gone makes me more aware of how important my children are."
Please take
a minute to let Karen know what
you think of her story: Karen Carroll
