Mother’s Day

Mother’s day is right around the corner, and every year, I think not just about moms but also about the women who influenced my life the most. Of course, the two grandmothers who raised me are first. My Grandma Mayse brought me up in church, “whipped’ me when I broke the rules, and rocked me when I was sick. My Grandma Foley gave me truly unconditional love, and those of you who have read “Maude” understand what I mean by “unconditional.”

There are also the three Mayse sisters who taught me various things and shaped me, either by genetics or example. The oldest, my mother, was the prettiest and the most difficult to understand. Even when she was too young to wear makeup, she turned heads. She married five times for an assortment of reasons. Her life made me determined never to be divorced.

The second sister, my aunt Fredia, had the biggest heart I ever knew. She was my favorite, and next to my grandmas, gave me the most love.

The youngest of the trio was my Aunt Dorothy. All her life, she was absorbed in her creative pursuits. She designed and created fabulously beautiful gowns, cakes, paintings, and flower arrangements. She passed her talents down to her girls—and to me. I take that after her.

My girlfriend Shelby, whom I met in seventh grade, was the best example of a Christian I ever knew. She lived an exemplary life of love, devotion, and generosity of heart and service to everyone who knew her.

I’ve been blessed with other wonderful friends, Carol and her sister Verleen, from my teens and twenties. Sandy, for my whole life since my thirties. It doesn’t matter how long it’s been since we’ve seen one another, she stays in my heart.

Jeane, and Maryann, for my seventies, who have given me more than just friendship, but enriched my life with their knowledge and their hearts.

There are my sisters. I’m the oldest, and claim part of the credit for these three remarkable women.

Nancy, who came after me and who persevered and completed her studies to become a Nurse-Practitioner through the most trying period of her life.

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Linda, the middle child, who was the first Cardio-Medic in the Armed Forces and who served in the Navy for twenty-three years. After often suffering emotional abuse at the words of our mother, Linda was the one who took her in and cared for her until the end. I think maybe Aunt Fredia shared her heart with Linda.

Jackie, the youngest of us, who fought Pancreatic Cancer head on and defeated it, and then went back to school to get her degree at the age of fifty-four.

My female cousins are dear to me. Karen, who overcame a number of life’s challenges to make her own way in the world, and  Debra, with whom I was privileged to share part of our growing up through some tough times. She always keeps a can of beans in her now-bountiful pantry to remind her of the times when she and her sisters and one brother went hungry as children.

Then, there’s my daughter, named Melanie after Olivia De Havilland’s character in Gone With The Wind. She was half-way born and only her head had left my body when she screamed in protest. The doctor said, “It’s a girl.”

I should have named her Scarlett.

Eventually, I did, in a book titled, Drama Can Be Deadly, not published just yet.

She’s a natural-born singer, (she got that from her father) who wanted to be an actor, (she inherited that from me) studied drama and dance at the University of South Florida, and missed her graduation ceremony because she got a part in a show and had to leave town.

I understood.

We have the degree, and that was the most important thing to me.

I’ve been blessed.