My Mama's Hands

Just something I wrote to go along with a picture I took of My Mama's Hands:

As a baby, they held her source of nourishment. As a toddler, they held on to things as she learned to walk, even catching her as she fell. They petted and cared for the many animals she came in contact with. They tilled the earth as she planted vegetables and flowers. As a teenager, they held hands with the man she loved. As an adult, they held her children tight. They cooked, cleaned and sewed her children's clothes. They made flower arrangements, cakes, cookies and all kinds of crafts to make her home more beautiful. They re-arranged furniture that her husband would trip over if he came in late at night and forgot to turn on a light. They tended to the stray animals her children were always bringing home. They brandished the switch she used to keep her children in line. They sewed the tiny Barbie clothes as a Christmas present for her oldest daughter one year when money was scarce. They wiped away tears, bandaged scrapped knees, and continued to hold on to her children as they left to start families of their own. They held grandchildren and great-grandchildren one-by-one. Now, as she has gotten older, they hold on to things that make her happy - pictures of her family, the TV remote, the phone; and they hold us close for a hug when we visit. My Mama's hands are still beautiful to me and I pray that my hands will be remembered one day by my children as Hands of Love, cause that's what my Mama's hands mean to me. Written by Patricia Sue Brown Rutherford, August 20, 2009

I Think I'll Write A Book

Yesterday, Penny and I had to go to Mama's and be interviewed by a man who works for the attorneys who are suing the tobacco companies. He wanted to see the things that Mama could do and hear about the things she used to do.

Being the oldest, it was decided I would be on camera first. And I'm not talking a little video camera. Nope, this was the same kind of camera they use for TV. And, he was taking really, really close-ups. I was a little nervous about that. After all, I am in my late 50's, so there are some wrinkles on this face. One thing he did tell me and Penny confirmed - he brought out the blue in my eyes. He said "This will soften the skin and make those blue eyes pop." Naturally, I couldn't see, but Penny said they really did.

He wouldn't give us the questions first. Oh no. He started by asking what kind of mom she was when I was growing up. Now, I could have told how strict she was and how she never spared the rod, but I knew that wasn't what he wanted to hear. So, I told him that she was very active. She could do back bends and splits and run like the wind. She was a great water skier; could even kick off a ski and slalom. She used to chaperon field trips and go to PTA meetings. She was involved in all our activities. She was a stay-at-home mom who had a garden, both vegetable and flower.

He asked if she always smoked. I told him that she and Daddy both smoked and my bedroom was right beside the living room. I would have to shut my door and open my window year round and sleep with my pillow in the window to be able to breathe. The smoke was so thick in the living room, it looked like you were in a bar. He asked me if I ever asked her to quit. I gave him that "are you kidding?" look and said "Back when I was a kid, you didn't ask or tell your parents to quit smoking. For one thing, the doctors even promoted cigarette smoking and for another, that would have been very disrespectful to talk to your parents about quitting." I would probably have been told to go get a switch, so she could teach me some manners. "No, you didn't talk to your parents that way while I was growing up. After I was an adult and after watching my grandfather die of emphysema, I begged her to quit smoking. She couldn't quit. If anything, she smoked more and so did her brother."

He said "Have you thought about the outcome of this disease and what's going to happen to her?" I said "Yes, I know the outcome. She's going to die a horrible death. I just pray that they come up with a cure before then. Or, let me die first so I don't have to watch her suffer." By this time, I was sobbing. I don't even remember what else he asked, but he hugged me and apologized for making me cry. Of course, Mama and Penny were crying, too.

Penny was next. She told how Mama worked three jobs and she hardly ever got to see her. She and Daddy had gotten a divorce when Penny was about four, so Mama worked in a school cafeteria, then as a housekeeper at the hospital, then out to the beach to work in my aunt's liquor store until after midnight. She would go home, take a short nap, pick up Penny and Earl from my house, fix their breakfast and get them off to school, sleep another couple of hours and start all over. She still kept up with the chores around the house and her flowers, cut her own grass and cooked. She just wasn't home much.

He asked if Penny had asked her to quit smoking. Penny was from another generation than me, so she did ask Mama to quit. And when Penny had Tiffaney, Tiffaney used to hide or throw away Granny's cigarettes. Penny also broke down and cried when he asked about what was going to happen to Mama because of smoking. That was something that I have tried to block out of my mind and not dwell on because it's so horrible.

After the interviews, he got me to take out the garbage and Penny to check the mail, because we have to do those things for Mama. I gave him a photo album that I had made up from the time Mama was 17 until just this Mother's Day. It even had three pictures of her with cigarettes in her hands. He gave me his email address in case I came across more pictures of her smoking. We left to go back to work and he interviewed Mama.

Penny called me on the way back to work and said "I never knew Mama could water ski." I had never thought of it before, but there is a lot about Mama and Daddy that Penny never knew. So, I think I'll write a book. I would love to get a video camera to interview Mama and Daddy, but I guess my little tape recorder will have to do the job. I'm going to try to sit down tomorrow night and write out questions and then set up a Saturday when I can sit down with them (one at a time, of course - can't have them in the same room with one another) and ask questions about what it was like when they were growing up and what they remember about us when we were little. I talked to Mama this afternoon and she doesn't remember going to PTA meetings. She was dealing with an alcoholic husband and you tend to forget a lot of things that go on around you. I learned that when I was in counseling for Adult Children of Alcoholics. Anyway, I think it would be nice to get stuff down on paper for the generations to come. So, I'm going to write a book..........