Be Inspired! / Family & Friends / Women

The Things Our Mothers Save

My mother does not do the Internet. She gave it a shot, and she might try it again down the line, but she is an old school communicator.

My mother understands the power of a note, beautifully written, on fine card stock. She appreciates the enclosed article, artfully cut from a magazine, folded with care, and inserted into the envelope. She appreciates meeting the day with the twenty paces back and forth to the mailbox.

These things are superior to the email or text message, hastily composed without thought to grammar, ending with a hyperlink to that same article online.

And so I am, periodically, in receipt of my mother’s finely crafted cards and letters, most of which include a little something extra: an article on investing for retirement, a photograph of family, or an exceptional recipe, for instance.

Last month, I received this old newspaper clipping from March, 1969. Behold the young scouts, planning for an international Jamboree:

Yes, that’s me, circled in blue, in what appears to resemble traditional Greek garb.

Oh, the things our mothers save. Items held high with pride, then tucked away with love, a timeline stored in any variety of albums and drawers and boxes. They’re rediscovered in small increments over time, jogging the memory, recasting older lives in newer, softer lights.

I have no recollection of this moment in time, however. Nada. No recollection of this jamboree, this article, or the rehearsals leading up to it. As it happens, neither does my mom, and we had a pretty good laugh over it.

Oh, the things our mothers save. Sometimes, as with this item, the greatest value is not in the memory it prompts, but in the act of saving itself.

Now, as an adult, I find that I save every one of her cards and letters to me as well, tucked into my own drawers and filing cabinets, small offerings of love from mom which I now leave purposefully scattered for accidental discovery one day down the line. I’ve often wished she’d taken to email, but I’m increasingly glad for her choice. I’d have deleted most of those emails over time; survivors would have been easily located on my computer, and where’s the fun in that? There’d be no mark of her of perfect penmanship, and I would miss the carefully chosen cards and paper.

It’s my mom’s birthday today. Happy birthday, mom. Thanks for everything you’ve ever saved.

The card is in the mail.

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8 thoughts on “The Things Our Mothers Save

  1. I have a few Boxes of my Mom’s Mom’s photo’s dating back to the Teens of Last Century. My mom and I need to go through those and get them scanned!!
    I wonder if she has the Picture of me as Peter Cottontail in the 2nd Grade Easter Play?? She Did make my costume out of 2 sheets and fuzzy wire clothes hanger ears and my tail was a bunch of….Drum roll please….Cotton Balls!! I had that “honor” due to being the Biggest 2nd (AND 3rd) Grader in the school. Now THAT would be a Stellar image!!

    ~(

  2. What a hoot seeing this! I don’t remember this either, (and you know wherever you and mom went, I wasn’t far behind). And where did that blond wig come from? Why wasn’t that recycled for one of our halloween costumes?! And where the heck is Caper Hill?!

    I do remember though, you as a Girl Scout being in a little play that you all performed in a local nursing home. You were one of the main characters, (no surprise there) an elf I think… you had a tale in my memory, that was held on with a safety pin… which was part of the story plot… you losing the tale, and then later it being found, and peace was once again restored to the forest… something like that. (Elves don’t have tales though, do they?) Oh, the mysteries of Girl Scouting.

    • Am laughing myself silly over this! I have to say that I’ve gleaned a small recollection of the costume after staring at it for a few weeks. That wasn’t a blond wig — it was a white kerchief! Part of the Greek farm girl look, I assume.

      I do remember being an elf… who lost its tail. I think the tail came off because I told a lie or something, and I had to make things right in order to have my tail (and world order) restored. I dunno… I just googled “elf who lost tail” and got nothing, so I’m guessing the play’s popularity waned!

  3. Lovely! You’ll always cherish those! I read old letters from my parents to help remember special times.

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