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alsoknownas

alsoknownas
Location
Medium size city, West Coast, USA
Birthday
January 01
Bio
A hundred odd jobs, some more odd than others. 30 years self employed in various building trades, sales etc. Lots of college, lifetime musician etc.

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Salon.com
MAY 7, 2010 1:59PM

I Meant To Call You Mother's Day

Rate: 12 Flag

I meant to call.

I picked up the phone to tell you the hummingbirds were starting to show up. They move so fast down by the alders next to the creek that it seems they may not have even been there when I glance back to see them again. The aviary outside my window where I spent most of my seventh year in bed makes me look at birds differently I think. Do you remember how I told you of the barn swallows I get to rescue every summer in August when they hatch in the mud nest above the cabin door and invariably one of them gets mixed up and flies in? I always hold them the way you taught me. But I put the phone down, of course and went on with the daily doings.

I meant to call.

I picked up the phone to tell you a ridiculous pun I heard the other day at work. This one fellow at work fancies himself to be quite a comedian. No…not me, the other guy. But anyway, some of his corny jokes are funny and remind me of the ones you like me to read to you out of The Reader’s Digest subscription you always send at Christmas. Can’t say much for the articles, but the humor still makes me laugh. Thanks. But I put the phone down, of course and went on with the daily doings.

I meant to call.

I picked up the phone to tell you I talked to my brother. On the e-mail actually, but at least it was communication. You’ve been trying to get me to do that now for 20 years and I wouldn’t. It’s not easy but I’m giving it a try. No promises, but maybe we’ll stay in touch. But I put the phone down, of course and went on with the daily doings.

I meant to call.

I picked up the phone to tell you I plan to be in the garden Sunday. The dahlias have to go in to be able to bloom by the end of July. That favorite picture of yours of me at age two by our dahlia beds in the little post WWII 2 bedroom house, up by the butte on the low rent side of town, sets on the bookshelf. Dahlias in black and white don’t have the same intensity as the digital ones I printed for you of last year’s crop. I know the dahlias are not the part you like the best though about that old photo. But I put the phone down, of course and went on with the daily doings.

I meant to call.

I picked up the phone to tell you I’ll be o.k. this first Mother’s Day without you. But I put the phone down, of course and went on with the daily doings.

Before I forget, I just wanted to say, Happy Mother’s Day anyway. I love you.

 

 

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Comments

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I'm so glad I talked with my mother yesterday, and will talk with her again on Sunday.

This is so simply heartfelt, and I am sorry for your loss.
Lovely, bittersweet post
r
@ Jeanette and J-Blu

I appreciate two very good writers saying that. Thank you.
All my love to you this first Mother's Day without your mum. Your sentiments here are beautiful and I hold them closely to my heart. I have a feeling your mum may be holding them close to hers, too.
Oh I am so very sorry. But I have to believe she knows somehow of this beautifully done, bittersweet, clearly heartfelt tribute. No guilt, please. That is reserved only for mothers.
This is beautiful. I felt where you were going probably because it is now my second Mother's Day without my mom. I did a post today too... not intending it to be what it became, but needed to express it. Writing about it helps. It really does.
Sparking...your writing always carries such poignancy. Thank you for coming by today.
Sally...kind words.Thank you for that.
Mimetalker...I went by to see your post also. Thanks for the kind words.
This is such a hard Mother's Day for you. My prayers are with you. May you find peace and love in your knowledge that you handled these past months with grace and caring.

Monte
Monte,

Thanks for the kind words. It will be a different sort of day indeed. I need to focus on younger family feeling loss as well. That's how it goes.
I understand..That's why I did a post to my kitchen table mother..My real one has long passed but I know she is singing along to that Jim Reeves Soundtrack in the sky.
Hug
R
This brought me to tears, knowing some day I'll be writing a post on Mother's Day after my mother's gone. How poignantly beautiful alsoknownas.
@Linda S.

I really did like your post today also. thanks for taking some time from your day to come by here.

@ FrogTown Diva,

well...they were good tears to have. I saw some real similarities in how you described your mother's knick knack collections, since my mom had a boatload of stuffed and ceramic frogs. Thank you for coming by today.
Hope you're doing alright today. I've been thinking about you.
@Jeanette,
Thanks for the thought. 4 a.m. was rough but the day has been beautiful.
I got too busy over winter helping her and did not properly set away the dahlias so I lost them all, but will order more tomorrow. There is a world reknowned grower just 20 miles from here.I learned to love gardening from her. She would cringe every time I pruned something, so today I did a lot of pruning outside instead of planting. Pruning is about letting go and it stimulates growth.

I wondered about you and Jim in Nashville today also.
Keep your head high...take care.
Hi--this is my first intro to you (OS is such a big place); that "I meant to call" snagged me and the rest made me glad it did. Really touching and down-to-earth writing and sentiments. (r)
@ dirndl skirt,

Appreciated. Will need to swing by your place as well....and yes it's become quite populous here.
"Pruning is about letting go and it stimulates growth."

You must absolutely, positively write more about that. There is so much that is profound and important in that statement.

Jim and I are well. We seem to be going through the stages of grief on a somewhat more rapid schedule than usual. Things are going to be OK. We have learned a lot about empathy in the past week, which is a wonderful thing. This has been an object lesson in being able to embrace both the light and the darkness.
And I was going to mention in my first comment, that if you need any deep red dahlias....I have a lot. Seriously. They are apparently from good bloodlines in Westport, Ct. Somehow they have survived my initial ineptitude. Now they proliferate underground like science fiction, and don't mind my casual storage in the basement.
Thanks for reminding me of all the things I try to remember but too often don't about my mother.
@john guzlowski,

You're a good writer and I appreciate that you would take time from your day to stop by here, and that it made you remember some little thing you thought you had forgotten.