Mother's Day 2016, and everyone knows all about mothers. On a Sunday morning news program a woman talks about government maternity leave acts and how America must progress to be right. Isn't this the same government that says abortion is legal? My mother even took a young woman into her home to prevent one abortion. So she would reserve the right to protest effectively government stupidity, but paid maternity leave is much better than most government ideas, it supports love and life.
She was firm, kind of, and she set standards that weren't the same as everyone else's. I had a serious talk about my male sexual functions and waiting until I was married for it. Because that was what my father and mother had done, but those are old values and so unrealistic. I was thirteen and going on a first date with a young lady and had to know the rules. It must have been very effective, I really was far away from hearth and home before I slipped into sexual sins... Like my smoking and drinking, it would take some recovery time to clean up and fly right... but then resistance to evil was part of the training of parents to children, for everyone's safety and good health. She did better than she imagined, in my alternate home/family I was trusted and welcomed, and two adult women had a loud and lively discussion about me and my trustworthiness with other children and no adults in house. I never felt so honored by adult women that I thought highly of ever again. And I didn't betray the trust of either woman. Mothers, they are the first touch of civilization upon young male humans, because I do think that without them the boys will never be softer, the clash of bodies will always be for conquest and victory, where would the gentle touch be?
I could depend on my father for sane reaction to my accidents and hurts, he never ran to save me, calmly walking and making help happen. But when I had my motorcycle crash and was being taken to the hospital, I kept insisting that they talk to my father, not my mother because she would be overtaken by her imagination of my hurt and trauma, she really could get into sharing my pain. She was a romantic and Dad was pragmatic. But I could always entrust her with my treasures, like the lady love of my life, while I was sure Dad had reservations left over from his war or just a hard judgement of his son's foolishness... it all worked out, my mother could talk to my father and we would get ready to make the family greater, if I was really as adult as I thought.
I would say that I miss her, but that wouldn't be the truth, for I will always have her in my life both DNA, and our years together and apart, she would make me write at least once a week as we were apart, and I still dream and talk to her in my mind, and I look forward to the day I will again be back inside that special love she gave so much of...