May 2, 2017

May 2, 2017
Mary with collage and clutter

Sunday, May 13, 2012

Adele

My Mom's middle name is Adele. So is mine. So is my niece Gretchen's.

The name used to be one I seldom heard, but now the Blues singer Adele has made the name famous again. The famous Adele is a Grammy winner. Mom is an amazing soprano. Gretchen's just six years old, but she can carry a sweet tune.

You might think musicality runs in the name, but I inherited my father's voice.

My mom and I are different in other ways, too. I love to travel. Mom stays awake worrying at night if she or anyone she knows plans to get on a plane anytime soon. I like beer and Mom thinks it tastes like horse piss. (Dad always asks, "How does she know what horse piss tastes like?") I love poetry, and Mom prefers the saga of a family torn by forbidden love. Mom's mother was a tough woman who pushed her children. My mom spoiled me.

Still, I've inherited things from my mom in addition to her middle name. Neither of us cooks any more, for example. I have her blue eyes, though mine are a little crossed since brain surgery. I like to think I've inherited her spunk.

Happy Mother's Day, Mom! Thanks for all you give me every day! Mary

P.S. Even though you don't like poetry, I'll close with this sonnet by Christina Rosetti for you on mother's day. Thanks to poets.org for today's poem:

Sonnets are full of love, and this my tome      by Christina Rossetti

Sonnets are full of love, and this my tome
Has many sonnets: so here now shall be
One sonnet more, a love sonnet, from me
To her whose heart is my heart’s quiet home,
To my first Love, my Mother, on whose knee
I learnt love-lore that is not troublesome;
Whose service is my special dignity,
And she my loadstar while I go and come
And so because you love me, and because
I love you, Mother, I have woven a wreath
Of rhymes wherewith to crown your honored name:
In you not fourscore years can dim the flame
Of love, whose blessed glow transcends the laws
Of time and change and mortal life and death

1 comment:

  1. Wonderful poem. I wish my mom was still here so I could send it to her.

    Jane

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