A Letter To Mama

Thursday, April 13, 2006

IN LOVING MEMORY OF JESSIE LUERENE (HEADRICK) COOK
JUNE 28, 1929-APRIL 13,2005

Dear Mama,

Today marks the one year anniversary of your death. In some ways it seems like only yesterday that you left us, and in others it seems like a lifetime. I miss you so much, and I long to see you again, but not in a wildly grieving way........In a "miss you, wish we could catch up on things" kind of way. So many things have happened in the last year. So many changes in my life.

One thing that has changed is that I can't walk down the sidewalk to see you whenever I want to talk and just sit together or share a meal. I treasure the time we had together the last few years of your life, and I can honestly say I have no regrets, nothing left undone that I wish I could go back and do differently.
Another thing that has changed is that I can't call you and ask you about a lot of these old family pictures. Like how old were you in some of them? Who is the guy with your brother, Elmer, in one of them? Is this my great-grandpa, or a great-uncle? Things that are gone now, because only you would know the answers. I think of something every day that I wish I could ask you about. I have even gone so far as to reach for the telephone before I remember you're gone to Heaven to be with Jesus.
Jessica has matured so much during Dad's and your sickness and your passing. I am so proud of her, and I know you were, too. She grew up a lot during that time. A lot of adults wouldn't have been able to handle the things she helped us do in the name of love. The doing of
those things matured her in a way that all the talking and studying in the world cannot do. It was good for her, and she can be proud of doing her part in caring for you and Dad. She is working hard to keep her grades up, and she got that scholarship you told her she could get if she only worked hard for it. She knows that I was the first of your 5 girls to graduate from high school, and she will be the first to graduate from college if she stays on course. She wants to do it for you, Ma. For herself first, but for you, too. You always encouraged her to dream big, and to work toward achieving those dreams. She is still focused on those dreams, Ma. Thank you for always being there for her, and gently pushing her to do her best. The results will live on beyond your time here on this earth.

Thank you, Mama, for passing on your sense of humor to all of us girls and grandkids. You taught by example that humor can go a long way toward making a bad situation more bearable. I was looking for pictures for this memorial page, and in almost every single one, you're either laughing or smiling. You taught us that there is almost always something funny to laugh about in any situation. Thank you for that, Mama, it has helped so much to relive the happy memories we all made together as we emptied out your and Dad's apartment and divided up your life amongst the girls and our families. So few material things to represent the rich heritage of love you left to all of us. You may not have been rich by worldly standards, but by God's standards you were rich beyond measure. The legacy of Christian living you leave behind is priceless. Money cannot buy the raising you gave us girls, and the influence you have been on your grandchildren and great-grandchildren. If we bring shame on you, it's not because we weren't taught better. Thank you for that, Mama.

I think I miss you more at church and on Sundays than any other time, Ma. Sundays and holidays were always our gathering times. Even those who didn't go to church always gathered at your house for Sunday dinner and catching up with family happenings. You were such a good cook and I still cherish learning to cook under your watchful eye. One of the best compliments anyone can pay me is to brag on my cooking, or say something I made is as good as something you used to make. That is truly high praise, in my book. Looking over the pictures as I was gathering photos for this tribute, I noticed that many of them are taken at the dinner table, with the remnants of the meal spread out before us. One of the things I learned from you is that preparing good food for our loved ones is a way to show love to them. It's a gift from our hearts, made by our hands, and given with love. Thank you for allowing me to learn from you, Mama.

Music was always a big part of our lives too, Ma, and I thank you for that. All kinds of music, but especially country music and gospel music. When I tried out for choir at school, you encouraged me. You sacrificed to buy me the dresses and outfits I needed when I made Madrigals and Sweet Adelines, our version of girl's barbershop. No Mama could have been any prouder when I made All-Region Choir, then All-State Choir. You sacrificed to come up with money when we went to choir festivals and had to stay in a motel overnight, and most of the time you chaperoned, too. Other kids hated it when their Mom's chaperoned, but I loved it that you came with me. I spent more time with you than the girls my age. We always had so much fun together. Always.....................Thank you for that, Mama.

Those Sunday afternoons often turned into church for us. We'd drag out the old songbooks and sing our hearts out. Dad's favorite song was "The Haven Of Rest", sometimes called "I've Anchored My Soul". You always wanted to sing "Mansion Over The Hilltop". Mine and your song to sing as a duet was "Suppertime", and I get weepy when I hear it now. Oh, the happy memories those songs bring back to me. The torch has been passed. Jessica sang "The Haven Of Rest" for Dad's funeral, and she sang for yours, too. She played the piano for herself both times, too. I wish you could have heard her play the piano before you left us, but you were so sick the last several months that you couldn't go to church. You were faithful as long as your health allowed you to go, though, and you set the example, even if some of us choose not to follow it. Thank you for that, too, Mama.

A year. A year without my Mama to talk to, to laugh with, to sing with, to cry with, to visit with and fellowship with. I can hardly wait to see you again, Mama. I miss you so much, but I thank you for teaching me and leading me the right way to go, and setting a Christian example to follow. I know you are with Jesus now, and I know I am going to be with you again soon. Daddy's probably jealous that I wrote to you first, but I didn't have this blog on the anniversary of his death, so I will write to him on December 19th. Just hang on, Old Coot, you'll get your letter soon.

I LOVE YOU, MAMA.

DIANE