Momma

Two years ago today, I got the news I knew was coming, but deeply dreaded... My mom had passed away. So many times after tragedy strikes, you feel as though it happened just yesterday, and yet a lifetime ago. I guess that's how I feel about losing Momma.
Momma was my best friend (until I married Kyle). We talked about everything, and understood each other in ways I can't describe to you now. Within a few seconds of calling, we could tell the mood of each other, if something was wrong, or if everything was right. There was a deepness to our relationship that I miss. I'm not saying we had the perfect mother/daughter relationship - far from it. But we knew if ever there was a need, the other one would be there.
My mom was unforgettable. When I was about three years old, my first memory was going on vacation to the Smoky Mountains of east Tennessee. I remember clearly riding the ski lift to the top of the mountain, and turning around to see Momma in the lift behind me. On that trip, we also went into Cherokee, NC, and I had my picture taken with an Indian chief. I tell you that story to tell you this one. At 13, we returned to the mountains, and mom wanted to find that same chief to have my picture with 10 years later. Well, he was no longer in the same place, and was not going by the same name, so we thought he wasn't around anymore. On our way out of town Mom yelled for us to pull over. She spotted him! As we walked up, HE recognized her!
He asked her if she was the lady with the little girl several years ago. Do you realize how many pictures that man had posed for??? Like I said, unforgettable.
My mom was compassionate. I could tell you story after story of how she blessed peoples lives. Anytime someone she knew was in need, she'd jump at the chance to help.
My mom was an incredible cook. She could go look in the fridge, grab a few things and make an incredible meal out of what seemed like nothing. She did things the old-fashioned way because she believed that it was better for her family. She instilled in me the love of decorating cakes. I couldn't have had my wedding cake like I wanted it without her.
My mom was patient. She had a rough go of it most of her life. She, like so many women of her generation, was not appreciated by the men in her life (until my brother and husband came along). I watched her stick it out even though I know there were days she wanted to leave.
My mom was a Christian. She did what she knew was right, whether or not it was painful for her. She heard the condemning words of another, but listened to the heart of God.
My mom was an inspiration to me then and continues to be now. I hope that I can be the kind of woman she was. I hope that when I'm gone, people will speak of me like they speak of her. I know that I will see her someday and tell her once again, "I love you, Momma."