Thursday, March 3, 2011

all about my mother...

My mother came up to visit and...
I am looking at her coffee cup the one she left on the counter this morning... the color of her coffee is unique (could be called taupe but then again I would be labeling) since she takes it dark, strong with a splash of boiling hot milk on top. I had forgotten the hue of her coffee and the strength of it... the same strength that at times possesses her just like the aroma of the Colombian roast I bought for her...

I woke up at 4:30 am and made her my honey buttered biscuits and a wonderful Colombian roast before she hit the road. She was traveling from Savannah to Jacksonville to Atlanta to Puerto Rico. Back and forth difficult, challenging and the way at times I can describe our relationship. We've had a difficult relationship since I guess I hold on to so many painful memories.

At times I try to forget and move on since my love for her is unconditional and because I know and recognize that holding on to that anger will affect me in all other aspects of my personal life but I feel like I should help her... I should set her free.

Free of the limitations she grew up with...the limitations she now at times sets for herself... the orthodox ideas she holds like a prized possession. Limitations that continue to make a slave out of what could be an almost perfect soul.

There are many wonderful qualities that reside within my mother and every time she lets herself go I can see flashes and catch glimpses of such wonder and quickly I once again fall in love with her hoping, fantasizing and dreaming she stays that way... but just as fast as quick as I fall in love she lets out all these critters and monsters that once again scare me and I retreat fast...  like a turtle I crawl back into my shell hoping, wishing and praying the storm is gone when I stick my head out once again.

As a woman and a mother I can't imagine what she is going through after the death of my kid brother. And I found myself being the one in control and with the wisdom to guide her... Such paradox life is. All I hope is that she lets me that she allows me to do just that...


In the meantime and while she visited I cooked for her mostly organic. I made her rest and sleep well. I made her play games and I also let her be idle or better yet made her. I wanted her to be quiet, passive, out of work better yet stationary. I took her shopping to my favorite places and to eat to a couple of cafe's and bistros I knew she would enjoy.

My maker =0)

Look at some art...


She spend time with family...


She flirted with my husband and  she would call him "pollo" ( In Puerto Rico we use the word pollo to describe a good looking guy but also means chicken) Which confused my very southern American husband that my mother kept referring to him and calling him a chicken. Which in turn now he feels he needs to look for ways in being  "mas macho".


In all this is the first time I felt like a grown up. Now when my turn is up to look after her. To make sure she is OK...

That her soul is free...



  1. Change is very hard but still possible. Hope is what keeps souls soaring and what makes us look forward to tomorrow.

  2. Holy Smokes you have no idea how much this relates to me and my mother!

  3. I am following you through the blog hop. Please follow me at

  4. Cute Blog! I enjoyed reading about your Mother. I’m a new follower Happy Friday!! I would love for you to stop and take a look at my blog as well! Thanks!

  5. I used to have a shaky relationship with my mother. I decided one day late in my middle aged years, (yes, it took me that long), to simply forgive and decide to love her, unconditionally. It has been nice for her and I ever since.

    You have a lovely yourself in the peace you are blessed and you are loved. Family is essential. Your family is very beautiful.

    Peace and Blessings!


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