My Mother’s Spirit – revisited
by Elouise
I still love this photo and the short poem below about my Mother (Eileen). She died in 1999 following a brain hemorrhage that was too much to overcome, given her post-polio problems and other physical ailments.
Mother looked nothing like the woman in the photo above with this exception: She never gave up. Eileen loved her favorite bright red winter coat. She also loved playing the piano, cooking with next to nothing in the larder, turning small bits of this and that into a miraculous feast. She also served as a lifeguard at swimming pools, and was like a child who always loved to sing and play games with her daughters and the neighborhood kids.
Still, she and I didn’t get to know each other from the inside out until late in her life. Her extrovert and my introvert rarely seemed to come together–except when one or both of us sat down to play the piano.
After my 1993 meeting with my parents, we managed to stay in touch. It wasn’t easy at first, but slowly we began to see each other from a different point of view. When she had her last stroke and was taken to the hospital and then hospice care, I began to understand how lonely her life had become, and how much she loved the music that tied us together.
Here’s the poem I wrote several years ago. It goes with the photo above, and still makes me tear up.
My mother’s spirit
came calling last night
I saw her footprints
in this morning’s snow
precise and measured
She passed quietly
beneath my window
step by small-hooved step
down the driveway
before crossing over
into the woods beyond
our house asleep
and dreaming
Thank you for stopping by today. This world continues to be very harsh toward women, especially during times of disorder and disarray. Mother’s Day gives us another opportunity to appreciate what it takes, especially in these troubled times, to carry on as a mother in the midst of chaos.
Elouise♥
© Elouise Renich Fraser, 13 May 2023
Photo found at fiftiness.com
Great
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Thank you kindly!
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Dear Elouise, I went back to that post of yours that you linked. Oh how sad that made me feel. I have been so lucky in my life. I have survived two unsuccessful marriages, a serious car accident that left my mother permanently disabled and various other disasters. But all I hear from people – everywhere – is the problem with parents and children. But my mother was someone I talked to whenever I wished. And she understood. My father and I never squabbled and he and I talked about so much. I have been so very lucky. I talked to one of my sisters the other day and she said, “John, we were so lucky to have Mum and Dad.” But what is so different we were an evangelical Christian family. My grandfather an Anglican priest. Grandmother a Quaker and so on. I told you years ago to come to Australia to visit. It’s too late. We are all too old and most of the good ones are gone.
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She and D could still come . To visit you and us. Would be wonderful. And yes we were very fortunate in our parents. John isn’t even 80 yet!!!
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Hi, Robin!
I know this wasn’t meant for me, but I’m going to answer it anyway! Thank you for the invitation. If I could close my eyes and do some magic that would take me to Australia, I would! I’ll be 80 in November, and (frankly) don’t feel a bit that old. But my body keeps reminding me that this won’t last forever. This morning I went out for a nice walk in our neighborhood. We haven’t had warm, dry weather for months on end. But today was wonderful. It was great to hear the birds singing, and the grade-school children playing outside! I’ve been cooped up long enough (thanks to Covid and heath issues). Praying your health is at least decent, and that you’re finding ways to enjoy each day.
Elouise
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Dear John, I teared up when I first read your comment Sunday morning. Thank you for your faithful attention over the years. I’ve learned so much from you and from Robin. I’ve always wondered why people thought childhood was so much fun. Well…parts were fun, and they were always accompanied by low-level fear, given my father’s approach to discipline. In some ways, my 50th birthday meeting with him and my mother was the exact opposite of what he believed to be a child’s place in the order of things. Sadly, he never had his own come-to-Jesus moment with his angry father. Right up to his death, he teared up over a repeated dream in which he beats his father up and feels he has committed a horrible sin.
I’ve so enjoyed reading your memories about your family. Especially your parents. I’m grateful my mother and I found each other before she died. My father went down fighting and weeping all the way to the bitter end. David has been to Australia; I have not. Who knows what’s around the next corner? I don’t. I do, however, know that our paths crossing in bloggy land wasn’t an accident.
Elouise
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No Elouise – the invitation was meant for you and David.
Just before Covid began John and I went overseas – I was nearly 80 and he isn’t 80 yet. So don’t leave it on the back burner. We have a young legless friend of ours coming out from Arizona in August so we can cope with Visitors.
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Oh, Robin. I won’t say Never. However, all things considered today, I’m going nowhere fast! 🙂 I think about you often, and wonder how life is for you these days. It’s so good to hear from you. And no, I won’t say Never.
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You have such a way with words. Take care!
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Thank you, Herminia! I hope this day finds you well and thriving. 🙂
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Thank you. Everything is good on my end. Have a great week!
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I think this is such a lovely post; thank you 🙏🏼
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Thanks, DW. 🙏🏻
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