| WHY IS THERE NO FAMILY CATEGORY ON THE MYSPACE BLOGS?THAT'S MY QUESTION FOR TODAYAS IT IS MOTHER'S DAY AND ALL.NOWYESTERDAY I ASKED ALL OF MY READERS WHAT KIND OF STORY THEY'D LIKE FOR ME TO SHAREAND GOT QUITE A FEW DIFFERENT RESPONSES.FROM NIKI ROKS, I WAS ASKED FOR ANYTHING, AND ALSO SAID THAT EMBARRASING WAS GOOD AS WELL.The day I announced that I would be coming home from AIT (advanced individual training), to my parents over the phone back in 1996, they were both thrilled and excited.My mother more so, then my father.So much in fact, that she told me in no uncertain terms that she "Would be there with bells on!"Now, anyone who knows my mother, which most of you do not, would know that she says this all the time.It was a way for her to proclaim how much she was looking forward to an event.Well, my bus took me just a little over two and a half days to make the trek from Ft. Leonardwood Missouri, to Portland, Oregon, and all along the way I would make calls to home, to explain where I was.And with every time I called, my mother would end with"I'll be there with bells on!"And all the while I was happy that she felt that good about seeing me.Well, the morning arrived.We were making our entrance into Portland, and all of the passengers were looking out the windows to see if their loved ones or friends were there.As was I. The two "hippie chicks" I had first met while boarding the bus in Salt Lake City, Utah, were fast sleeping, and the only people not really excited about this stop, as they still had to make the trek to Everett, Washington.In all the midst of people, I never saw either of my parents, and my heart sank just a bit.No biggee, I'll be home in less then an hour either way.I'll have two solid weeks of seeing them on a daily basis, so its all good.As I was getting my baggage, and slowly making the trek in the narrow bus aisle was when I first heard it:CLANG, CLANG, CLANG!!!It was the sound of at least 3 different bells, the one most notibly was that of a cow bell.People in the aisle began to look for the source of the noise.The driver was pointing and laughing, and then a lot of the passenger's chimed in as well.And I knew what it was.My mother, so excited to see the return of her son after 6 months away, actually took the time to sew about 40 different bells on a sweat jacket and wore it into the bus station, to mark how excited she truly was.And yes, one of them was a cow bell.I was a little embarrassed at the time, but now, love the feeling that my mother cared not at the gawks and laughs, but for the purpose behind the statement.After getting off the bus, and running to give both my mother and father a hug after so long a time away.I returned to the bus and told the driver that not only did I not like the innuendo he made about my mother, but that it was totally dissrepectful, and that I would be reporting him to the bus company for his actions.That day, yes, she did embarrass me a little, but I loved her for it.FROM CON MOLTO AMOREI WASKED TO SHARE A STORY ABOUT HER SWEING AND QUILTS, AND WHAT SHE DID FOR ME THAT I CAN'T EVER FORGET.My mother has always quilted and sewed, ever since I can remember as a young child.I have been made clothes, still that are worn to this day.But for her, I would have to say that her quilts are always a thing of beauty, and quite remarkable.If you ever have been given a quilt, or a blanket that has been made for you, you'll know what I mean when I say, it keeps you warmer then anything else ever will.The quilts that my mother makes are not many, but are are priceless to me. Every stitch is done by hand, no machine work at all.And always very intricate From a periwinkle pattern, to that of a double wedding ring, or maybe just a mother's flower garden motif.Her quilts are always done by a loving hand.She once figured out what she would paid on one, after costs for the queen size quilt was completed.Totaling in the hours along with costs of the material, it was calculated out to about $.22 an hour.The cost of the quilt you ask?A measly $1,750 dollars.Not bad for a piece of artwork if you ask me, and one that will be used for a purpose, not just for decoration alone.As for what she's done that I can't forget.She taught me to be my own person.To have a voice, and never settle.Have I always listened to what advice she gave?No, unfortunately for me too.But she taught all 7 of us to be individuals, and never to just accept something for what another says it is. To seek out and find out for ourselves.Which is something I still continue to do tho this day.REGINAASKED ME TO EXPLAIN WHEN I FIRST SAW HER A PERSON AND NOT A PARENT.To me, that would have been the day that she was admitted to the hospital for her tumor.No longer was she my mother, but another person hanging on in a hospital, unsure of the outcome.That day, after being rushed to the ER by my best friend Erich, I took a lot of my hostilities out on everything that had just happened, on my brother.I slammed him up against a wall and told him that if Mom died, he would no longer be safe.Did I mean it?Probably not.But my mother has always been the rock in our family.That was the day that she became human to me. As a child she always told us that she was going to live forever, and when she had her first seizure, that statement came crashing down.ANDREAASKED FOR SOMETHING FUNNY.My mother is "The Frog Killer"That's right, the same lady, who as a teenager was named "Belle of the Hop" at the annual "Calavaras County Annual Frog Jumping Jubilee" is a frog killer.We lived in an old farm house in a rural farm area outside of Vancouver, Washington, and my mother and father resided in the largest room, which happened to be in the basement.One night, my mother was awakened, not by the usual sounds of my father snoring, but that of weird movements.She turned on the light and threw back the covers to find the culprit.There on her stomach, was this little tree frog. |
| She turned on the light and threw back the covers to find the culprit.There on her stomach, was this little tree frog.Well, my mother freaked out and swatted him off the place where he currently sat, and onto the floor.Once he landed there before he could hop away to safety from the woman whom had just lamb-basted him somewhat good.She without thinking, upturned the wastebasket over where he was at on the floor.A wicker wastebasket mind you, not one that would suffocate him.Well, the next day, after fully awakening from the night's events, my mother had forgotten all about the frog and his plight.She went on about the rest of her day like there was nothing wrong.It wasn't until we arrived home and asked about the garbage pail, that she remembered the earlier events of the wee morning frucus with her and the frog.By that time, the frog was dead, and we all began to call her the frog killer.I WAS TOLD ANYTHING POSITIVE BY JAADE.My mother was a strong woman, maybe not physically strong, but strong willed.Maybe because of the hardships she endured growing up, maybe because she worked in a boys home in her early twenties.But I'm more so leaning it towards the fact that she raised 6 children.My mother was the rock of the family growing up.Always there to wake us up, make us dinner, wipe our eyes when we were sad, and comfort us when we were sickAnd what thanks she got was little in return.She never demanded much from us, except that we try our best at whatever we tried.She juggled home, countless practices and games of many sports, plays, parent teacher meetings, and a husband.Never asking for relief from anyone else, my father included.She still does it, helping the best she can with my nephews and nieces, at her age today.A woman, who always gave her herself, without asking for much in return.She has gave me life, supported me in all my endeavors, gave sage, and not so sgae advice on occasion, helped steer me in the right direction a time or 3,000 or more.All the while, never asking for help.How many mothers out there today can say the same thing?There were 6 of us in total that were raised by that woman, not to include the nieces and nephews, untold number of friends that were always around, and people who were near and dear to our hearts.She was a rock, a pillar of support and most of all, My Mother.And she still is today.One of the reasons that I have a picture of her as a young woman, framed and in my office to see while at the computer.I always think of her, and if what I do will embarrass her, or make her wonder about what the hell I'm doing when I do it.AND LASTLY, ANYTHING THAT BRINGS A SMILE TO MY FACE, FROM THAT CAMPLEJOHN GIRL.AKA, TOM WOPAT'S STALKER.The first thing that comes to my mind, when I think of my mother and smiles, is the day that my oldest sister, mom and me were sitting around the house discussing her and dad's upcoming anniversary, and what the anniversary was at that point in time.You know, the silver, the gold, which one it was going to be.I don't remember which one it was exactly, but I looked it up in the encyclopedia at the time, and read that gifts aloud for each corresponding anniversary.Then I came to the one that was called the "Occasional Furniture Anniversary."At that time, I had no grasp on what occasional furniture was, or why it would be named such.We laughed and had a great time that day.Always referring back to what it would look like to give that gift."Honey, I bought you this chair, but it's a special chair, just for you.A chair, that only you can use, and only occasionally at that.As its a piece of occasional furniture.Not for everyday use."Now I know that occasional furniture is like patio furniture or a card table.But the question still remains: Who in their right mind is going to buy their spouse a folding table, or a set of lawn chairs as an anniversay gift?I honestly think the first guy that does this for his wife, will wind up using the stuff permanently, as directly after that, that's the only thing he'll get in the divorce settlement.AND NOW, THOSE ARE THE STORIES YOU'VE ASKED FOR.ALL OF WHICH BROUGHT A SMILE TO MY FACE AS I THOUGHT OF THEM.motheron thisyour special dayyou have given memore wisdom, courage andcompassion then anyone i have ever known.to you i owe my thanks and without that you would still be my mother, but without you i would never have existed.howdoes one say thank you for the gift of life?there is no other way that i know of then to just come out and say it with three big heartfelt words that meanso much to hear.the words that are always used and sometimes forgottento us.I LOVE YOU!from yourson.FOR ALL OF YOU MOMS OUT THERE I GIVE TO YOU THIS, A SIMPLE HUG AND A HEARTFELT THANKS TO WHAT YOU DO.CAUSE WITHOUT YOU ALL, THERE WOULD BE NONE OF THIS.Inspiring Story!Free Hugs Campaign (Music by Sick Puppies)1:30 PM52Comments
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