How I Know

There are just some things in life that are a fact.


And the fact is, I am definitely my mother's daughter.


Show me the proof, you say?


Well, first there's this:

All the Bounce dryer sheets in the world can't touch this for me and my mama.


Then, there's this:

'Nuff said there.


And there's a fact known to us both that


One old flannel sheet
+
1 Serger

=

all the fabulous dish rags you could possibly hope for (or, let me put it another way - with a sewing machine and/or serger, anything's possible and what's old is new again).


But if all of that weren't proof enough, then this is:


1st,  when my niece stopped by here for a visit on her way back to D.C. a couple of years ago, and all the hugs and kisses were out of the way (and it may have been around suppertime, consisting of cornbread and buttermilk, I'm not sure), her comment to me was, "Aunt G., coming to your house is like going to Grandma's house."  


How can you not love a niece who says things like that???


But the clincher was a couple of weeks ago.


The little pre-school girl in my life and I were in the hammock,  chillin' out, having a big, grownup, adult conversation about something.  In a minute she says, "GG, I love you." 


Of course, I had to squeeze her and say, "I love you too, darling."  (There may or may not have been some teeth grittin' goin' on when that was said.)


And then SHE replies, "GG, you sound just like Grandma Great."


At that moment, I knew that I had arrived.  


I had become my mama.


And it was my proudest moment.


'Cause, ya see, if there's one thing my mama's children and grandchildren and great-grandchildren all know - it's that she loves them.  Alot.  And they love her back.  Alot.  And they all love to go see her.  Not because that's what they're supposed to do, but because they LOVE to. 

She's more fun at 90 than most people are at 25 or 30.


And every child/grandchild/great-grandchild secretly thinks, "I know she loves me the best, but I can't let the rest of them know, because it wouldn't be polite."  Because that's how she makes you feel.  


Don't believe me? 


Just ask me sometime about the little girl who lives out west, is no kin whatsoever to my mama, but has called my mama "Grandma" all her life (she's now about 20 years old, I think) and has written my mama a letter at least once a month every since she could write.


Mm hmm.


So you see, when my grandbaby told me that I sounded just like Grandma Great, it was good to me to know that I had become my mother.


Happy Mother's Day to my mama.


I love you.


Two Temples
by Hattie Vose Hall


A Builder builded a temple,
He wrought it with grace and skill;
Pillars and groins and arches
All fashioned to work his will.
Men said, as they saw its beauty,
"It shall never know decay;
Great is thy skill, O Builder!
Thy fame shall endure for aye."


A Mother builded a temple
With loving and infinite care,
Planning each arch with patience,
Laying each stone with prayer.
None praised her unceasing efforts,
None knew of her wondrous plan,
For the temple the Mother builded
Was unseen by the eyes of man.


Gone is the Builder's temple,
Crumpled into the dust;
Low lies each stately pillar,
Food for consuming rust.
But the temple the Mother builded
Will last while the ages roll,
For that beautiful unseen temple
Was a child's immortal soul.