By Lisa Laraby-Graham
5.11.78
 

I remember a woman. She was one that no one could forget. She was one that no one wanted to forget! I will do my best to describe this lady.

She was a lady of beauty. Her "coppery" auburn hair was long and she always wore it down over her shoulders. She had blue eyes that sparkled like sapphires. Her mouth was sincere, and she never had an unkind word about anyone or anything. Her walk was one that showed her strength and determination. her step was one of certainty. Her voice was soft. I don't ever remember her raising it. She always had a consoling way of making everything "all better" when I fell and skinned my knee, when the noon whistle scared me, or when I had a nightmare.

She was a very religious lady. I remember how she would never miss a Sunday Mass or Monday night Novena. You could be sure that her rosary was always in her apron pocket. She taught me - even at my young age - that God is the answer to so many of the problems that life could come up with.

This lady was talented, too. If she wasn't taking care of her family or reading her Bible, she was crocheting. Today I've still got some of the most beautiful crocheted items you may have ever seen - everything from doilies to tablecloths to pillow covers. She loved to sit and work on these things when she had rare moments to relax.

This beautiful person and I were very close. We did everything together. I would "help" her bake, and she would help me "change" my "wet" doll babies. We would take our afternoon nap together. WE took walks and picked flowers. We went to the corner store for our daily ice cream bar. Sometimes we would just sit in the rocking chair near the window and watch the people go by. On Saturdays she would sit next to me on the front stoop to watch the newlyweds have rice thrown on them as they came out of the church across the street.

I think that the most enjoyable experiences I ever had with her, though, were when we would just sit and talk. We talked about everything from why the grass is green to who God is to why why she and my father got married. I think that she enjoyed these talks as much as I did.

This grand and wonderful lady is my mother. However, every story, no matter how beautiful, must come to an end. It is usually much too soon, as in the case of this lady. She passed away sixteen years ago at the age of thirty-seven. But as one always remembers a good book, my mom will never be forgotten. She holds a place in the hearts and minds of many.

I wish that every girl who doesn't appreciate her mother now, while she is alive and well, could understand the loss and emptiness she will feel when that lady is no longer around!

© Lisa Cudd
05.11.78