How often have you heard someone say, "Well, yes, it is cold but not too cold!" and wondered what in the world too cold would be? My sainted mother was one to say that often about many things such as if the biscuits were burned, the coffee rancid or the milk soured. Her idea was to make the best of whatever happened and, if it never was "too," then it could be handled calmly and politely.
We were fortunate to be invited to eat with neighbors once in awhile and, no matter how hard the cook tried, a snag might occur in the meal. The creamed spuds might be a little runny or the gravy pretty solid, the chicken might taste like old lard and the biscuits lacked any salt or shortening. My mother would always make a point of smoothing the feathers of the cook and a glance toward me would dare me to breathe a word against any item.
I remember my sister making her first attempt to cook a pot of beans. Beans were our constant food at two meals a day regardless of what else was on the table. We all considered them as necessary as bread or butter for a real meal, and I think it was my Pappy's favorite food. We all took our helping of beans and Sis sat there in anticipation as Pappy ate his first bite. He smiled big, said they were dandy and a little sand would be good for our gizzards! Mother agreed but said there was not too much sand, just enough to flavor the pot.
I took my close relative home to meet my folks shortly after we had started seeing each other and I knew how important she was gonna be in my life. I was calm as could be because I knew she was raised well and all would go smoothly. My sainted mother was so gracious, Sis was being nice and Pappy was taken with the beauty I had brought home. We ate supper, my close relative offered to help with the dishes but was thanked and we began to leave. As my Pappy shook her hand, he was startled to see red fingernails and said so! Mother said they looked lovely and were not too red!
Our sainted mothers are on our minds this time of the year even if they have been gone for many years. Memories of their love and kindness sweep over us and I can almost hear mine call my name. Mother lived with Sis the last of her life after Pappy died, she only lived six months without him and was prepared to meet her Lord. She maintained she was never too lonely.
It is my opinion, and everyone has one, mothering is a big job. A man can raise children, he can feed them, love them and see to their needs, but they are always lacking because they don't get that special stuff that mothers do. We know some are sorta shorted in their lives because of circumstances that they couldn't change, but they all seem to know that they missed something. Yes, it is hard to grow into adulthood without a mother, but not too hard! It is just never as easy, kind, smooth, loving, sweet and may I add, proper. God bless all the mothers!
Bill is the pen name of the Gravette-area author of this weekly column. Opinions expressed are those of the author.
Editorial on 05/02/2018