“God could not be everywhere, and therefore he made mothers.” Rudyard Kipling

Mother’s Day an everyday event that is but celebrated on one day. The florists and candy stores understand this, therefore reaches into our pockets.

What questions can you ask your mother that may give insight into her and perhaps yourself?

My sweet Mother is over ninety, but as smart as a whip. The list of questions I will ask my Mother are these:

 

  • What did you think about my Dad when you first met him?
  • What is your favorite memory of your Mother/Grandmother?
  • What was your favorite book when you were a teenager?
  • What is your moat precious memory with your grandchildren?
  • What did you like to cook for your family?
  • What was you happiest family vacation?
  • Who was your most beloved pet growing up?

My daughter is now a mother. Her chatty two-year-old I would like to ask him about his mother. Those questions may be:

 

  • What is the best book your mom reads you?
  • What do you love to do most with your mom?
  • What is your favorite treat mom gives you?

Grandson, being a mere two and a half, I think three questions on video would be all I could get out of that talkative little man.

If you are lucky enough to preserve family memories, go for it in spades. Photos are one thing, the written word another, and a video story is one more precious piece to help preserve our legacy.

I have video of my dad telling a story of World War 2 when his ship was hit with a torpedo. He kept the log book, and asked the Captain in command, “How do you spell torpedo?”. As a lanky skinny eighteen-year-old boy I can picture him writing, and querying that question while scrambling to disembarked a sinking ship.

All of the stories we can gather are tapestries of who they are, and a part of what we become.

My Mantra: “Celebrating the female and what history they create. Happy Mothers Day to all”

 

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Katie L Lindley

Although I would like to say I am organized, focused and cookie-cutter, that simply would not be me. I am no different than any other woman in the world. I love to love, love hard, and, in the end, have learned to love myself above all else. So here I am, writing about the many men and the multiple purposes they have served in my life. Realizing that not one man on my roster had fulfilled every single one of my needs. Perhaps one man is not supposed to? I have compiled snippets of the men that have entered my world. In the end, they have shoved me towards my bathroom mirror, forcing me to take a better look at myself. Reflection is brilliant and the strongest guidepost into ourselves.

Working on the next book in the series “A House for Every Purpose, My Journey From Pillow to Pillow” revels a woman abandoning her home in search or her identity beyond men, motherhood, author.

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