Mother[less] Day

Nita Joyce (Browning) McGuire; a.k.a. "Mom"

I lost my dear Mom in March, so this is my first Mother’s Day without her. Instead of moping about, crying and blowing my nose on Sunday, I have come up with a plan to treat myself and honor my mom at the same time.

Mom grew up in a coal miner town in West Virginia and her family was “dirt-poor”.  Beans and cornbread was a typical meal. [On Sunday’s after church, she would get to eat meat – provided her Uncle’s squirrel hunting went well – Yuk!]  Mom had beans & cornbread quite often growing up, and still “craved” them to her last day. Go figure. At least she never made my Dad hunt for Sunday supper.

My Plan is to put on a pot of pinto beans when I get up. I will “soak” them overnight, par-boil them, and throw them into my crock pot with a couple of small ham hocks. My Mom did not approve of  “my way” of cooking beans, although she did admit they were tasty after I made them for her. We also differed on the cornbread. I like the sweeter, cake-like kind, and she wanted the traditional cornbread that her grandmother baked in an iron-skillet to get a crispy crust kind. Mom and I both are very particular about our beans & cornbread. Every time I make this meal I think pleasant thoughts about her, and I also thank God that I don’t have to eat squirrel on Sunday.

Part two of the Plan – spoil myself. A treat would be yummy scones. Oh great!  Now that I thought about scones I cannot get them out of my head. Even my hubby’s famous banana pancakes are not tempting me. I guess I will have to bake scones after I get the beans cooking. So what if I have to increase my insulin dose? I hope they are worth it.

The Plan part three – catch up with my dearest friend, who is also Motherless, while we work on our crocheting.  I proposed this idea to her voice mail and I’m anxiously waiting her response. Her 2 sons probably have wonderful things planned for her tomorrow, but it doesn’t hurt to ask.

Back up Plan 3 – start my Mother’s Story. Do some free-writing and outlining my memories. If that proves too difficult, there is a children’s story I promised Mom I would write. A story that would honor and preserve a silly game my Dad would play with my sister and I.

And if my muse craps out on me?  I have Thursday and Friday’s soaps (that Mom got me addicted to again), saved on the DVR.

I think these things could make tomorrow bearable.