Mama told me a lot…but she never told me there would be days like this!

Mom and me on a road trip

Remember the song:  “Mama said there’ll be days like this, there’ll be days like this my mama said.”  (Thanks to suzieflamingo for the lyrics correction.) First off, I will just have to say I miss my mother…but since I seem to be turning into her, that may make it easier eventually.  On a hot Texas summer day, we were headed to Wichita Falls to get deck stain so I could re-stain the east and west decks of their house.  It was hard for Sis and me to keep things up, with all the caregiving for Dad, the 12-hour one-way trip for me to get to Texas, and Dad’s showplace had taken a beating.  Every time I went home, there was a long list of chores waiting for me in the barn, pasture, shop, or outside of the house.  Mom was still able to get around pretty well then, so I would usually load her up and we would head to “the big city” for lunch, supplies, and maybe a quick stop at TJ Maxx or Tuesday Morning.

Last card

I am sometimes overly sentimental, and a bit of a pack rat, and it was nice to look up this morning and see the last birthday card I had from Mom–summer of 2018.  Yesterday I was out in the yard, picking up dog poop in the “not as hot as it has been” heat.  It always kind of reminds me of being home, and mucking out Rio’s barn, or cleaning out his water trough–not the most fun things to do, but nonetheless, they are things that have to be done.  As I was stomping around the magnolia leaves in my wellies, the song popped into my head–Mama said they’ll be days like this, and for some reason, the follow up thought that No, she did not tell me that I would end up in Mississippi picking up dog poop… and deer poop.  I somehow never expected to have deer grazing in my yard, knocking down the bird feeders for seed.  If the deer cannot reach it, then the raccoons climb the tree, go out on a limb and take them down.  No matter that I put them on small branches that should not hold the weight of a raccoon, they can still find a way.  No matter that I tie them up with a variety of bungee cords, carabiners, chains, twisted wire ad infinitum, one or the other of them finds a way around or through.

Rocky

Can I have some of that?

I am fairly certain Mom never picked up dog poop, but she drove a tractor and plowed fields, wearing a big ole long brimmed sunbonnet, long sleeves, and gloves.  Mom was fair-skinned with red hair so she protected herself from freckles and sunburn when working in the fields with Papa.  I do not think she ever did that after she and Dad married, probably because she had 3 babies to take care of every day.

So here I sit on this day that marks 70 years of my having been on this earth.  Quite naturally, I am thinking of my parents, and the times through the years that are seared into my memories, but also, thinking ahead to those “uncharted” years still to come.  Yes, my mama told me a lot, showed me a lot, and in some ways, prepared me for the things she did not tell me about.  I suppose the one thing we cannot tell someone else is what their own life will be about, given that we have to construct that for ourselves unless we choose foreclosure.  And because I love the ability to make it up as I go, I have decided that today my present to myself is to do what I want to do, even if that is not doing anything at all.  Since I will be 112 eventually and still having to take care of everyone and everything, one day off should not upset the system that much.

 

This entry was posted in Country Philosophy, Mississippi, Texas and tagged , , , , , , . Bookmark the permalink.

14 Responses to Mama told me a lot…but she never told me there would be days like this!

  1. Happy 70th birthday! I hope you do just what you want and have a marvelous time doing it. I’m seven years into my 70’s, and this decade has been great.

    Like

  2. Suzassippi says:

    Thank you, Anne. I am glad to hear your 7s have been good! It seems strange to think of entering a new decade, but I suppose I will get used to it. 🙂

    Liked by 1 person

  3. Betty says:

    Happy Birthday! I hope your coming years are all that you hope them to be. The picture of your mom and you is charming. She has a wonderful smile. I can tell that was a fun day for her. Enjoy your day!

    Like

  4. Happy birthday and welcome to the seventies! This is a fine tribute to your mother on the day she gave birth to you. Great picture of you both. Good memories do get us through whatever a day may bring us. I think she would be proud of you for picking up that dog poop!

    Like

  5. Just for the record, it’s “there’ll” be days…

    Like

  6. Suzassippi says:

    If you grew up in the part of Texas I did, we sang “Mama told me there’d” be days like this. I am sure Mother heard the song on American Bandstand–that is when she did her ironing. Thank you for pointing out the correct version; my husband always did say as soon as I got within 20 miles of home I started talking like a hick–guess he was right at that. 🙂

    Like

  7. peggyjoan42 says:

    Happy Birthday – ah 70 years, a milestone. I remember the song – and mama did tell me a lot of things. Always miss my mom – that seems to be natural, no matter how old we get. I have 7 years on you and I am not looking forward to the 2 1/2 years until I hit 80. I still try to work like I am 30, but I usually pay for that. Have a great day and do only what you want to do.

    Like

  8. Suzassippi says:

    I did have a great day, and I did do what I wanted to do. I might just do it again today, too.
    Mother always said she did not mind getting older, she just did not want to look it or feel it. I am less concerned with looking it, and more concerned with the feeling it. A 50-pound bag of concrete weighs more than it used to.
    You have a great day also and do only what you want to do! 🙂

    Like

  9. Beth says:

    Love this! Happy belated birthday! And, when I get close to the Mississippi River that thick as butter accent returns to my speech – and it’s not a bad thing. Happy days ahead to you!

    Like

Leave a Reply

Fill in your details below or click an icon to log in:

WordPress.com Logo

You are commenting using your WordPress.com account. Log Out /  Change )

Google photo

You are commenting using your Google account. Log Out /  Change )

Twitter picture

You are commenting using your Twitter account. Log Out /  Change )

Facebook photo

You are commenting using your Facebook account. Log Out /  Change )

Connecting to %s

This site uses Akismet to reduce spam. Learn how your comment data is processed.