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Momma, This One's For You

Kenneth is a rural citizen of Hamilton, Ala., and has begun to observe life and certain things and people helping him to write about them.

An Introduction Such as This

needs a steady hand as well as a sturdy thought strand. Why? Check the topic: Mother. Yours and mine. And any attempt that I write to try and (truly) define the term, Motherhood, to such an understood item, would give me the shakes--worse than a rough Saturday night drinking cheap whiskey and losing poker money.

But on the other hand, I am not about to try and emulate (a) Paul Harvey, Lewis Grizzard or Dr. Hunter S. Thompson because in (this) arena, I would be lost, start to panic at the IQ amount given by each prolific writer, and just cut and run. Nobody, I think, would stand in judgement if I did.

But I won't. I will do my best to give my best and bear it all that is anything decent, fair, loving, and patient: my mom. A woman by the Grand Design, Maker, and never complained at her lot in life that I can tell you here and now, her life was sad, depressing, and from my eyes (at ages 7 through 12), it looked as she was being either put on trial for some dark sin or being punished for something she did and never understood. People with narrowness of mind and sight all hated my mom and even to this day, I am left to wonder why when I know that she only did her best and even swallowed a lot of these stiff-necked lizards just to let me have a meal before bed. The details of "these" situations stem from my dad's family--most of them died before she did. Although she showed my dad, her husband, his due respect in his bereavement and never shed a tear. I didn't either. I could have easily acted like I was going to miss these inlaws, but God is all-seeing--inside and out, so I just stood it. When I was a kid, my grandpa hated me and treated me like I was some stray dog looking for water. And this was not by accident, but on purpose. And you have to wonder why my eyes were not filled with sadness?


Writers of Songs, Books, and Poems

have and will continue to publish a certain number of pieces telling everything about their inspired topics, but when it comes to my mother, I sit and stare into m computer screen and look oh, so empty and barren of words that I wish that I could string-together a group of proper sentences to make my mother happy from her lofty place in Heaven. I truly believe that she's there. Probably helping those that cannot help themselves. She was like that. I always thought that it was more of a gift than anything else. My mom was like this for every day of her life. Furthermore, I feel that my mom deserved the mega-peaceful place where she is now.

Mothers are not created, but have "that" certain feeling or inward gift that when she sees the helplessness of a child, her arms and heart, react as if by some wordless command and both of her arms reach to comfort this child no matter if the child is hers or not. Mothers across the entire world do not have to attend any school or institute of higher learning to become those special people who stand out from the cold world today. Why? Simply put, they are way too busy comforting their children, husband, siblings, and friends. My mother and the word "sacrificial" seen in Webster's Dictionary, should be seen and read together. That one word encompasses how she loved; how she gave of herself when she was so sick of body that she could barely walk and was always willing to listen to me, my sister, and dad tell her the troubles of their world.

Mothers are all, and I am not being flip, color-blind. There is no racial boundaries when it comes to a mother raising her children in the darkest regions of the Amazon Jungle Areas to my mother who gave up her mother when she was only three--but she stood at the graveside without really grasping the event for what it was. In the years to come, I would see my mom's mom through her warm character and unbiased mindset work all without her knowing just how special she was.

Probably by now, you have already bought "that" Mother's Day card and skimmed over the verse inside without even thinking what the words meant. I know. I was guilty of this way too much when I went to shop for my mom a pretty gift and a card and no matter what I gave her, it was all met by a loving smile and a statement: "now you know that I do not require any gifts. Just letting me see you for a few minutes will be gift enough for me."

And in the years that followed her going to Heaven, how true that statement really was.

My mom's name was Mary Dean (Lee) Avery, born June 2, 1922. Passed August 19, 2010. Eight years. Eight of the longest, darkest, and senseless years that I have ever lived. Not that I am putting my mom above yours, it's just that when a key member of any family has ran their race and did their very best, it becomes so past sadness when it's their time to go to the Scriptural Rest found in the Book of Hebrews.

But rest? No work to do ever in Heaven? I can tell you that my mom upon her arrival, went about what she knew to do: serve and give. And in closing, the one verse of scripture says it best about my mom and her life with me, my sister and dad. It is found in John 15:13, 13 Greater love hath no man than this, that a man lay down his life for his friends.

And how true this verse is. I saw it be fulfilled countless times as I grew up do for others and love the ones that others have forsaken.

Happy Mother's Day in Heaven, Mother. I Love and Miss you.


© 2018 Kenneth Avery


Kenneth Avery (author) from Hamilton, Alabama on May 21, 2018:

Liz -- you are so right. I have a lot of loved ones there in "that" city, The New Jerusalem coming down, the city that John, The Revelator wrote about in the Book of Revelation.

Sometimes I get to a state of anxiousness to get to this place for in there, NO sickness, death, or disappointment will be known. This is more than a goal, but a quest.

Thanks again, Liz. Write me soon.

Liz Westwood from UK on May 21, 2018:

Sounds like you have a good plan for the future. I was reading a script of a book yesterday, which reminded me how little we know about Heaven. One of the encouragements of going there is the prospect of meeting those who have gone before.

Kenneth Avery (author) from Hamilton, Alabama on May 19, 2018:

Hi, Sean -- and a very special thank you to you for such a touching comment. May God smile on you as well as bless your life. I mean it. And come by often.

Kenneth Avery (author) from Hamilton, Alabama on May 19, 2018:

Dear Liz -- your queue of cars going to a cemetery to pay honor to their mothers and the non existence of it today is very sad I am sorry to say.

Thanks for sharing.

My remaining years are to carry out what God's plan is for me and then get to Heaven and sit down and talk to my mother for as long as I want.

I can easily get excited at this thought.

Kenneth Avery (author) from Hamilton, Alabama on May 19, 2018:

Dear Margie - how sweet. Thank you so much. I even felt your comment and how your words touched me. God bless you, Margie and feel free to visit anytime you like.

Liz Westwood from UK on May 13, 2018:

This is a lovely tribute to your mother. In March, on the UK mothers day, there is always a queue of cars headed into the local cemetery, where people go to remember their mothers who are sadly no longer here.

Ioannis Arvanitis from Greece, Almyros on May 13, 2018:

My, brother Kenneth, you did a great gift for your mother today. You made me, a total stranger, to feel proud for your mother, and let me say, to feel that I love your mother for being such a great Woman to grow up a noble man like you.

So I send my love and prayers to her up there in Heaven!


Margie's Southern Kitchen from the USA on May 12, 2018:

Kenneth, I was blessed with a wonderful mother also! She also is celebrating in heaven still helping others as she did here on earth. Your story touched my heart! Thanks for sharing from your heart.

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