Your arms were always open when I needed a hug.
Your heart understood when I needed a friend.
Your gentle eyes were stern when I needed a lesson.
Your strength and love has guided me and gave me wings to fly.
This photo of my mama (Rachel Misegades, 1906–2001) was taken sometime in the 1950s.
Mama was a hand weaver, knitter, crocheter, leather tooler, book binder, teacher, …. I thought she could do almost anything. The thing she did best was problem solve. She did what seemed the most sensible to her even when she didn’t like the choice. Then she adapted her attitude to what she’d decided to do. I remember when she decided to quit driving and she sold her car. Later, she rented a place at a senior-living center, sorted her belongings, sold her house and moved. I ask her how she made all of those hard choices and kept a positive attitude. She replied that she asked herself what her mother would do. Isn’t that ironic. That is exactly what I do. Happy Mother’s Day, Mama. I wouldn’t be me if you hadn’t been you.