Sunday, December 15, 2013

A December Letter To Mama: Missing You

                                                                                                                                   Missing You:   
 It's been tough here. I sure miss you and I also miss all those family members and friends that you surely have run across. 

I wonder if your sons, your parent’s, your aunts and uncles are close by and are you sharing the same room in that mansion you are living in.
Mind you Mama, I am only wondering right now (smile)

For some reason my eyes drifted to a book on the table and I picked it up.

It was The Merriam Webster’s Dictionary and Thesaurus. I turned the page to see what the word "miss" meant. 

The one thing I read and connected to was the definition that stated “to feel the absence of ”

 I can relate to that even though 1994 has been an awful long time. Not a day goes by that I feel that absence and miss that nearness of you. 

This time of year always gets extra rough for me. For a long time I did not want to participate in cooking or getting ready for the holidays but slowly but surely I am coming out of that bag.

I can only imagine how you all feel, all happy and stuff. Not really having to do anything but sing all day long and keeping your wings clean. I wonder if you learned to play the harp.  

Down here we have to get our music at several different venues like I Tunes, U Tube and Wal-Mart. I still love my Old One Hundreds and my Oldies But Goodies Rythym and Blues. 

The wings are a different story I want you to know. We either cook them ourselves or go to a place that sells them for sixty-five cents apiece. That’s too dang high if you ask me.

I am going to try and make Gumbo for Christmas. I have often said that you and your mother make the best Gumbo in the whole wide world. Your mother did beat you making it though. That lady could make gumbo with her eyes closed. Taylor has asked if I would show her how to make it. 

We often think and laugh about that time the sound of something cracking came from your bedroom. 

Because we were taught to knock before entering, we never could catch you in the act of making that sound. I remember we used to put our ear to the door and as soon as we heard that crack and crunch we would knock real fast and open the door. 

All we saw was you lying in bed reading a book with that smile on your face.

We knew what it was though…. we looked in the Gumbo pot and noticed those big snow crab legs dwindling down one by delicious one.

We saw only those little blue crabs and shrimp for tomorrow’s left over dinner.  

Funny how we could not catch you but you always caught us doing something we did not have any business doing. 

Missing You:   

Just yesterday on the news they were talking about Santa Claus and what color he was. 

Shoot I remember one year on Christmas Eve, we were told to go to bed and go to sleep because Santa was on his way. Well we were still in there giggling and talking when we heard a scratching sound coming from the window.

Me with my non scary self, opened the curtains;  and who stood there laughing and saying Ho, Ho, Ho, you kids better be sleep before I come back. Standing there with a no presents for us threat bigger than life was Santa Claus !

Talk about six kids scrambling under the covers and got quiet as a mouse, well that was us. Sleep came real quick.

We never, that I remember, thought of anything different was wrong or questioning why the change of the complexion of Santa. It was something that we did not notice.

All the Santa’s that my brothers and sisters and I saw in the NCO clubs on the Air force Base at Christmas time were white. 

The Santa that came to the window that night was black.

I think back now and believe to my soul that our parents knew that when we came of age and matured we would know the reason for his small part in our life at a young age.

We were also taught the real reason for the season and that has never wavered.  

Missing You:  

I know you remember that cactus we had disguised as a Christmas tree. 

We had that plastic cactus sitting in a pot for years on the table by the front door.

Money was scarce that year and we could not afford a real tree that we so often had. We put a Christmas bulb around that cactus, wrapped the pot with Christmas paper and was just as excited when Santa visited and left what toys he could that year. 

I know you have to remember when Bruce wrote that letter to Santa and drew a stamp on the envelope. The letter did not get very far because the mailman put it right back in the mailbox. 

That mailman could have taken that letter; I am sure he knew there was a special place in the post office for letters like that. Especially addressed to the North Pole.

I could go on and on about our Christmas stories when we were kids because they do put a smile on my face. Such happy times that I would never trade for anything.

We did not have the snowflakes to fall just before Christmas, or lakes that iced over to use as a skating rink, no chestnuts to roast over an open fire.

We did have apples and oranges, candy canes and three or four different kinds of nuts.

Oh and Mama our biggest joy was that we had you and that was enough for us. 

Love  and miss you

Your daughter Vicky