LAYLAND MASUDA/SHUTTERSTOCK |
“Goodbye,” she sang cheerily, skipping off to her new dorm after giving me a light peck on the cheek as though we were no more than acquaintances. A young woman. A college freshman. No longer my baby. Her casual parting stung me. Had she outgrown me? As I walked away I was arrested by a child’s voice shouting “Mommy!” (A word I hadn’t heard in years.) Before I could turn around she was in my arms, her face buried in my neck. She didn’t need to say anything in that moment. I knew then that she’d always my little girl. --Jamie Larson, Atlanta, Georgia
The scent of love
In the recesses of my closet, there is a bin filled with clothes. For years, I’ve been haunted by it, using that size as a weight-loss goal. One day, my 13-year-old daughter begged to raid it. Excited to save money on back-to-school outfits, I told her to pick a few pieces. She pulled out an old jacket and put it on. It was too big. I was just about to comment when she buried her face in the fabric and inhaled deeply. “It smells like you," she said. I no longer care if I ever fit into those clothes again. --Alyssa Mayley, Dover, Ohio
Emergency!
GOODLUZ/SHUTTERSTOCK |
The power of perfume
My daughter Anne’s September departure involved a flurry of all things new and two cars full of her anticipation of college life two hundred miles away. Our house became strangely quiet, but phone calls but email kept her close. However, in late October a student wearing Anne’s favorite perfume came into my office at the college where I work. When she left, I had tears in my eyes. Until that moment I hadn’t realized just how much I missed my daughter. Twenty years later, a whiff of that special scent brings back that special autumn and Anne. --Kay Mills, Beaver Falls, Pennsylvania
Reunited by Mom
PRESSMASTER/SHUTTERSTOCK |
Who’s the tooth fairy?
My favorite moment raising my children happened while tucking my daughter into bed. Jeanne told me she went to the nurse's office that day with a classmate who had just lost a tooth. Unfortunately, the nurse said, "You know, your mother is really the tooth fairy." My daughter looked up at me and asked if that was true. I said, "Yes." Then, ever so innocently, she asked, "How do you fly around to all the houses?" --Maryann Zacchea, Sandy Hook, Connecticut
The rhythm of life
SIRTRAVELALOT/SHUTTERSTOCK |
A trip from Mom
We were feeling gloomy a week after my mom’s funeral. She’d passed away from Inflammatory Breast Cancer. Suddenly, the phone rang; it was our priest. “You’ve won our raffle - a vacation to St. Maarten!” Suddenly, I remembered that a few days after Mom’s passing, I found an envelope on her desk. In her beautiful handwriting, it said, “Return to church by November 17th.” Inside were tickets for the church raffle. Honoring Mom’s wish, my father and I dropped them off at church the next day. I told Father this. He hesitated and said, “It’s a gift from your mom.” --Sharon Bette, Southbury, Connecticut
Dress shopping
DEJAN DUNDJERSKI/SHUTTERSTOCK |
Lessons in motherhood
Don’t let her sleep in your bed.” That’s what I heard over and over after my daughter was born. So I didn’t, unless she was sick. Now my baby is almost six, and every night, after we read and sing songs and turn off the light, I lie down with her before she falls asleep. We whisper to each other, and I watch her eyelids start to flutter. I smell her hair and kiss her forehead. And I wish I had done this every night. --Suzanne Cifarelli, Albany, New York
Pennies for candles
VITA PAKHAI/SHUTTERSTOCK |
A stand up woman
My mom had a great sense of humor and a knack for making everything fun. One thing that resonated with me, even as a small child, was how much she seemed to enjoy her own company and found ways to entertain herself. As a kid, I remember her giggling while paying bills. What was so funny about bill paying? She would put humorous notes in the reference section of the check: For the electric bill, she might put “You light up my life,” and for the mortgage she’d write “Four shingles closer to owning it all.” --Robin Hynes, Slingerland, New York
Memories in verse
WAVEBREAKMEDIA/SHUTTERSTOCK |
Just one question
“I was chosen to be your mama,” I tell my four-year-old daughter as my younger boys pull at my clothes. She looks at me tearfully and asks, “Why couldn’t I grow in your tummy like my brothers?” “Well,” I tell her, choking back my own tears, “The doctor said I couldn’t grow a baby in my tummy, so your daddy and I decided to adopt a baby. That baby was you.” I hold my breath and wait for a more difficult question. “Can I have some ice cream?” she asks. “Yes!” I say, thankful for her innocence. --Katina Brown, West Monroe, Louisiana
SOURCE: RD
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