Mothers

In remembrance of this sweet woman, our mother, Norma Jean Pardieck –

May 11, 1925 – March 28th, 2020

What a wonderful life she lived – what a wonderful love she gave us.  I will miss her every day for the rest of my life.

Repost from May 2016 –

She’s the first voice that echoed in our unborn ears. She’s the first one to wrap their arms tightly around our lives and snuggle us close. She was the first one who fed us, both with nourishment and with love. She’s the first one that held our hand when we took our first step. She’s the first one that cried with us when we were hurt. She would kill for us. She would defend us……even when we don’t deserve defending. She’s our protector. She’s our confidant. She’s always in our corner. She’s our mom.

Mother. Mom. Momma. Mamacita. Madre. Mommy.

I’ve been called each of these, at some point in my life. Some were said with fun. Some with fear. Some with anticipation. Some with joy. Some with happy tears. Others with tearful despair. I will answer to them all. I will answer each time. I will answer no matter what the reason. I am first and foremost a “mother”.

All of these are names for that woman in our life that postponed their life for ours, that pushed everything aside when we pushed ourselves happily into hers, that put us first before all else. She lives for us. She would die for us. She would cling onto your hand if it is the last hand that she could hold. She craves time with you. She yearns to hear your voice and waits patiently for you to call. She would drop everything, anytime, if you need.

It doesn’t change as you get older. 20’s. 40’s. 60’s. The comforting need is still there wanting her near, making us feel safer somehow, hearing her voice which still brings comfort, even though she may not always remember who you are, what day it is, or what she had for breakfast. Her laughter is still something you crave to hear. Her smile you long to see. Her arms can still comfort you like no one else’s. Her body holds you close and has that familiarity that only she can give. She’s your mom.

I know, without a doubt, that my mother’s traits run strong in our family. She is short but “tall” in stature. She is small, but large in personality. She goes after what she wants. She is unwavering in her loyalty. She is the strong woman in every single one of us daughters, granddaughters, and great-grandaughters and we are proud to carry that on in our family. In her aging fragility, her strength of will pushes her to conquer circumstances, boredom, physical discomforts, and weaknesses that she never thought she’d have. I am so very proud of every single trait that has permeated every generation with her DNA.

I think of the circle of life and I now see how it all evolves. I know what I feel for my mom. I know what I see when I look at her. In her lines, I see the beauty of time. In her smile, I see the happiness of her memories. In her voice, I hear wisdom and weariness. And in her aging, I see my future.

And in this inevitable circle of life, I know that my own children must see that in me. How ever much I feel the spirit of youth can proudly carry us through our life, the aging of the body perseveres and invades the reality of our future. I realize that I am 60 plus years old and that the end of my life is much closer than the beginning. The halfway point is well past and my time has become increasingly precious.

I long to see what the future holds – how long I can hold on to watching my children and grandchildren’s lives unfold. I am certain that my mother, in her special way, is marveled by watching her daughters, her own babies, become grandmothers and maybe even great grandmother’s in her lifetime.

I look at this picture that I’ve featured on this post and I remember. I remember the vacation. I remember the moment. I remember looking at my dad when he took the picture. I can see him knelt down in the sand, in his swim trunks, with his crew cut. I remember the camera. I remember his voice the moment when he laughed and said “smile”. I remember how beautiful my mother was in her youth. How fun. How much in love my parents were, with each other and with our family. And I am truly humbled at my life, where it has been, where it is, and where it will be.

That day was a Moonflower Bloom moment captured both in print and in our memory. A normal day on a family vacation. that embedded the moment in my mind. I plead for you to find your moments. Find your “print” on today. Savor the feelings, the memories you are making, and feel the impending and evolving circle of your life.

You are the author of your life, your moments, your memories. Make them count. Make them last. Make them Moonflower Bloom moments. Ones that will carry you into eternity in the memories of those who will long to remember that day, your smile, your voice, that precious moment that is captured, both in their heart and in their mind.

It is truly the only thing that really matters.

Simply yours,

K