Will You Remember Me?
A poem.
I am trying to remember everything I can about Mom.
She liked to be called Margie.
One of her favorite songs was Eddie Cantor singing “Margie.”
If Mom was still around, she would be over 110 by now.
She was an only child, and her parents were wealthy.
Grandpa discovered oil on his land. Her grandpa squandered most of it. He just gave most of it away.
Her dad was Ross, who was a preacher, a teacher, and a lumber dealer.
He later shot himself for some reason. Dad found him.
Her mom was Josie, and she liked to order oysters from the Atlantic. I think Mom had a goiter, and the iodine in oysters did her good. Her grandpa Levi bought her a Storm King buggy and a Shetland pony to pull the buggy so she could go to school in style.
I think Mom was spoiled. Dad reminded her about that, but only when Mom acted like a spoiled brat. LOL (Sorry Mom)
Mom was always worried about getting fat. She hated it when Dad brought home a jar of peanut butter because she couldn’t stay out of it, and it was all his fault.
She was built like a woman. I don’t think she got that there was nothing wrong with that. She cursed herself for having what she called a “fat lap.” I think those Hollywood magazines made her think she was supposed to look like Ginger Rogers.
A couple of years before she passed away, she said something to me that I’ll never forget. She asked me, “ Do you remember Dad ?” Those words cut through me like a knife. They still do ……I told her that I could never forget him. I think we talked about Dad the rest of the day just to reassure her I remembered every little detail. I think she wanted to know that about Dad, and she also was asking me, will you remember me after I pass away? I think those were the saddest words and thoughts a person could hear…A person that you love so much they are a part of you, asking you that.
She gave me life, she loved me, she nursed me with her milk and made me a chubby, healthy baby. She grieved when I got polio and always stood by me in her own way. She made me stand in the corner when I was bad. She looked for me when I ran away from home; she put coins under my pillow when I lost my baby teeth. When she spanked me, I thought-ha ha..It didn’t hurt..and………It was clear that every time I fell in love, that girl was not good enough for me because Mom loved me more.
She always wanted to keep me her little boy. I still see the day when I was 8 years old. She was making a pie, and she made me a special pie out of butter and cinnamin and sugar that was tiny and just for me. She did that many times. She worried about me too much, but she loved me, and despite all the odds, she made me turn into a strong, upright young man. I feel she gave me a good moral code and a strong sense of humor not a bad looker, if I say so myself.
How could she ask, “ Do you remember Dad”? And it follows, “Will you remember me ?” No, not very often…………… Just every time I breathe, every day I get into this beautiful life. Now that you are in heaven, I’m going to ask you. Do you remember me? I believe you do because I feel your presence every day. I love you, Mom.
