In My Mother's House

My Mother has been on my mind this week as we have geared up for Mother’s Day. I have contemplated all the places we lived when I was a child. In doing so, all those things about those things that made our house a home came to mind. I would like to share some of those things in honor of my Mother.

These are some of the things that make my Mother’s house a home…

Unconditional Love-Mother loves us no matter what. Which didn't mean that she was unaware of our faults or that she didn't try her best to keep us on the straight and narrow. She simply loves us.

My Sweet Daddy-He is Mother’s companion, her love, the rest of her…her hobby, the center of her attention, and her compass. I wasn't very old before I recognized that what they share is the Real Deal. Theirs is a love that is precious and rare.

Prayer-my Mother prays. It isn’t something she does only when trouble comes, or when things aren’t going her way. It is a way of life for her. An ongoing conversation with her Heavenly Father. When my Mother tells you that she is praying for you, she is.

Music—day and night, rain or shine, happy or sad…there is music in my Mother’s house and in her heart! There is a song in her that is beautiful and she sings as she goes about her life.

Wonderful food-my Mother is the best cook I know. She made doughnuts when we were little. I’m not talking she bought doughnuts. She made them. From scratch. Not even from packaged biscuits, although she did that too. When I was little, she made them from scratch…she started with measuring out flour! Fried them in oil and then cleaned up the mess. In fact, for awhile, she made them every Tuesday night. I suppose that flour and sugar were cheap and my Mother can do more with flour and sugar than anyone! The aroma of a pot roast cooking makes me think of Sunday dinners. Sunday mornings often found her putting a roast in the oven to cook while we were at church. Walking in that door after church, well it just smelled like heaven. She still delights in discovering new recipes and regularly when I talk to her, she has just put some delicious thing in the oven to bake. My lifelong love affair with food was born in my Mother's kitchen.

Poetry-Mother loves poetry and literature. I remember her reading Shakespeare’s sonnets to me before I started kindergarten. Whatever she was reading, she read out loud to me. She encouraged me to memorize poetry and I can close my eyes and recite “Little Boy Blue” to this day. I’m sure I knew that word for word before I started school. Eugene Fields was a dear friend in our household. I also know “The Spider and The Fly” and “The Highwayman” and “Maude Muller”. Whittier, Longfellow, Riley, Keats, Dickinson...these were more than the names on School Buildings and Libraries. They were friends I met at my mother’s knee. They remain my friends to this day.

Laughter-You can hear her laughter over a crowd. Let’s face it, Mother is NOT the quiet type. She can be quiet in church, but sometimes that is a challenge. Her laughter comes so easily, and it happens often. On more than one occasion, Mother and I have gotten in trouble for laughing so hard. We don't always even know what we started laughing at. It just starts and we can't contain it.

Baseball and Basketball-My mother loves her St. Louis Cardinals. This is not a passing fancy or phase. This is a serious love affair. How I managed to marry a Braves fan is beyond me. I guess you could call mine a mixed marriage.

She also loves her Mizzou Tigers Basketball. When I was growing up and you didn’t see so many college games on TV, I remember when she watched the Boston Celtics. She loved that Larry Byrd! Much later, she became a fan of the Chicago Bulls, of Scotty Pippin and Michael Jordan, but I recall having to be quiet or go to another room while she watched the Celtics. She liked those teams, even if they were Yankees.

Southern Hospitality-When I moved to the South and made it my home, it was like coming home to me. I was raised by a daughter of Dixie and I learned early to put my hand over my heart and stand whenever that beautiful tune was played. I also knew about the Stars and Bars. I was making biscuits and cornbread before I learned to drive.

There were always extra people enjoying my Mother’s hospitality. She sort of collects people who need her style of love and care. My Mother would sooner ‘eat worms’ than have anyone leave her home hungry, thirsty or unloved. She is the epitome of Southern Hospitality.

~My concept of home was first formed in my Mother’s home. It was and still is the most wonderful place to me. There is something magical about going home to Mother’s. I carry a piece of it with me at all times, but sometimes the need to go back and be in her house…her home…is overwhelming. That need is bubbling up and over in me right now and I am so fortunate to be leaving on Friday to go home.

On this day that we honor our Mothers, I am so thankful that Charlotte Theresa Younger Buster is the mother that God chose for me. I love you, Mother.

Happy Mother’s Day!

~Mollianne