Remembering Mom

Remembering Mom

I love this picture of my mom holding my son Robert when he was 3 months old.  That joy you see in her expression and the contentment in little Robert’s face says it all.

Dorothy, Dottie, Dot, Auntie Dot, Sittie, Mom…   She answered to many names whenever and whomever called and needed her warmth and generous love, her comforting down home cooking or just her calm presence and her sensible outlook on life.

25 years ago today my mom left us for what we fantasize as a “better place”.  25 years ago her five sons sat around her bed in her home and waited with her for the angels to come.  I got the call at 3am, having gone home to nurse a hungry baby- my mom would have wanted me to do that.

We celebrated her life with family and friends and of course plenty of food.  She is the woman who taught me that food is love.  And she would have wanted us to eat and laugh and take care of each other in our grief.

When she died she left such a palpable void in our lives and I would guess in almost every life she touched.   I often wonder what we would have done together in the past 25 years if she were still here.  Mother daughter things…  shopping, pedicures, talking every day on the phone.  What mistakes might I have avoided and which decisions would I have made differently under the auspices of her motherly wisdom?  What kind of woman would I be today if I had had the benefit of her nurturing, her advice, and her confidence in me?

I can see her mushing over my grown sons, petting them and cooking for them and asking them questions that would be totally off limits for their mother to ask of course!  And they would answer and tell her everything.  Because she is their Sittie and they  love her and she would be an integral part of their lives as she was for all 13 of her grandchildren.  No words can express the sadness when I stop to think of how our lives would have been enriched by her unlimited and unconditional love for us.

Mom, we carry a torch for you.  We embody all the wonderful things you taught us.  Don’t fight with your siblings.  Be honest on your tax returns.  Love everyone and feed them if you have the opportunity.

We will, Mom, and we do.  We do it with you in our hearts.








15 Responses »

  1. A wonderful tribute to a wonderful woman!
    I still pray for her, your dad, and Bobby every day…
    May her love continue to pour through you to everyone you meet. You are definitely your mother’s daughter! She lives on through you.

  2. Ahhh, Rosemarie. A beautiful tribute! And, Bob, what wonderful comments! You most definitely had a special mother — how wonderful for you!

  3. Such a beautiful tribute to an, obviously, extraordinary women. I would have loved to meet her. Sending you peaceful thoughts and love today. Xoxo breezy

  4. Thanks, Sis, for posting this. I wish Kurt could have gotten to know Mom. But then again, he knows you, and that probably the next best thing. I’d write more, but I’m too overwhelmed….

  5. She was not an influence in my life:
    I don’t:..?
    -go to bed early and then get up at 4:00 AM and start cooking
    -try to negotiate with the produce guy for discounted prices
    -organize the kitchen pantry so the cans look like soldiers
    -“force feed” my children (or anyone within 10 feet of the kitchen for that matter)
    do I..?

    Thank you sista for reminding us.

  6. Love you momma. Wish I could have known Sittie better. I wish I could thank her for teaching you the ways of a loving mother.

  7. All you have to do is read these comments to know that your mother is alive and well in your family, Rosemarie! What a legacy! I am inspired to try to be a better mother (and a better daughter to my own mom). Thanks again for sharing this intimacy.

  8. Dawn,
    Thanks for sharing that. It’s an interesting exercise- blogging. It feels very narcissistic because it’s all about me but my hope is exactly what you say. That somehow my experience will inspire or validate or something… It’s all an experiment in life! YOU inspire me with your feedback. Truly!

  9. I never met anyone kinder than Auntie Dot. Never. Even as a little kid, I recognized that difference (distinction?) about her, and it was vast. She was always beautiful, always together, her house ever immaculate, and her food was supreme. I loved being “force-fed” by her! Uncle Eddie would’ve retired to his office for a cigar and I’d still be sitting at your kitchen table, eating another serving of whatever was offered/force-fed.

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