Happy Birthday, Mommy

Paying homage to this incredible lady is not easy, thank you very much. As multi-dimensional and complex as any puzzle, my mother is a contradiction. Let me describe to you what she was: She was one part, Betty Crocker and one part, Martha Stewart. She doted on her children. Now, she’s a little more self-involved but no less amazing. C’mon, who else could possibly raise me and my sis? We certainly gave her a run for her money…

She paid for her luxury and peace of mind
She marveled at the convenience of being finely tuned
Like her favorite upright piano
The keys glaring white
Inviting busy fingers to press down
Yeah, a slow jazz song swelling
The trumpet cupped and stifled; choking to be heard
But oh, that New Orleans sound…
Creole and country
Seasoned by years of stay-at-home motherhood
Kept quiet by duties and a husband’s diatribes
She was lost and she paid—dearly
Swallowed and ripped by weathering tides
Scores rising and washing over her
You see, they were un-invited
But they came quick and convenient
And weren’t tuned into her station
She was played like a beloved trumpet
Caressed and seduced by idle hands
And left there like a bad note to die
Pressed down on that bridge
Until the composition was complete
But like a good melody, she lingered
Long enough to be hummed

Your Loving Daughter,

~ Lisa

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About Mema

I've been at this blogging thing since 2005, but I don't consider myself a veteran AT ALL. My posts are mostly well-meaning, fun anecdotes with the occasional random thought and a dash of humor for good measure. So sit back, relax, and stay awhile. And if you decide to browse elsewhere, just remember...you're missing out on an opportunity to meet (arguably) THE GREATEST PERSON THAT EVER LIVED. Overstated? Well, why not stick around to find out? Your call, tough guy. Or, gal. Or, martian.
This entry was posted in Chestnuts Roasting On An Open Fire, Let's Just Invite The Family. Bookmark the permalink.

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