There are more than 7 billion greeting cards sold each year
in this country. I found 6.9 billion in
boxes under my mother’s bed just last weekend.
It all started when my mother needed a new roof on her
house. That led to repairing the leaky
spots inside her house, which led to the painting of said repairs, which led to
the near demolition of the interior of her home, which led to me having to put
it all back together and finding thousands of keepsakes and what-the-heck-is-this
things all over my old childhood home on Camille Street in Senatobia, MS.
Don’t get me wrong. I’m
as sentimental as the next gal, but my mother has kept every scrap of paper I’ve
ever written on and every shoulder pad I ever wore. Multiply that by 4 Hudspeth kids’ keepsakes
and you will see the perfect picture of my mother’s hoard…I mean, house.
What started out as a simple new roof has turned in to
weekends of mediation between my mother and me, with my brother sometimes
acting as a mediator.
It usually goes something like this:
Me: Mama, do we have to keep these green Liz Claiborne
pumps? I wore these when I worked at Hernando Bank in the 1980’s.
Her: YES!
They MIGHT come back in style.
Me: Why are you holding on to this empty Vick’s
Vapor Rub jar?
Her: That was the last Vick’s my daddy ever
used! You know he always kept Vick’s
salve by his bed.
Oh, ok. I guess that
makes sense…In my mother’s world.
Her: What did you just put in that garbage bag?
Me: Nothing….
Strangely enough, the “nothing” in the garbage bag often
finds its way back into the house.
One of the reasons it has taken so long to get everything
cleaned up and put back together is because both of us get caught up in the
memories tucked away under beds, in underwear drawers, behind what-nots and
stuffed in closets that haven’t been opened in years. Every single scrap of paper, picture, stuffed
animal, and do-dad has a history and a story to tell.
Especially the greeting cards she hangs on to. Each one chosen with just the perfect touch
of corny – some funny, some sentimental.
They are from friends and family for all occasions – birthdays,
Christmas, Mother’s Day. There are boxes
of sympathy cards sent to my parents when my sister passed away and again when
my brother passed away. All she has
carefully dated and cataloged. I have
called her several times this week and found her re-reading some of her
cards. They bring her such joy mixed
with a little sadness. Her favorite ones
are from her children and grandchildren.
From my brother, Andy, to my mother for Mother’s Day: Thank you for all that you do for me. Can you keep Heather this week? (My
sister-in-law, Ann, always put pictures with the cards they sent)
From my brother, Jeff, to my mother on Valentine’s Day: I love you, Mom. You mean so much to me.
From my sister, Gail, on her birthday: Love always, Gail, Buster, April and Brandon
And, of course, the ones from me.
In 1972 at the age of 15, I wrote: “Mama, I know we don’t get along too good,
but I love you anyway. XOX.”
In 1979 at the age of 22, I wrote: “Mother, we don’t always see eye-to-eye, but
I do love you.”
In 1992 at the age of 35, I wrote: “Mom, you are my best friend and I will love
you always.”
Maybe greeting cards allow us to express ourselves in a way
we would not do in person, but today I want to make sure I am not just sticking
a card into an envelope for my mother’s birthday. How many times have I run into Walgreens and
picked up some random card without even really reading the message. I want the message I send to my mother to be
spoken and not read; to be handed out in hugs and not envelopes. To be held in her heart for safe keeping and
not just in boxes under her bed.
I love that my mother has a little Hallmark history of our
family in the form of cards and notes. Each card forming a patchwork quilt of
expressions of love and appreciation for my mother from her family. I love that
she took the time to date each card and that she cannot bear to part with
them. I love that she has a continuing love
affair with the written word.
My mama and I are so very different...And so much alike. The proof is in the cards.
