I am reminded today of my former mother-in-law, born Dorothy Mae Powell, who died on 13 April 2001. That too was Friday the 13th, and in that year it was also Good Friday. Having lost my father just over four months prior, it was a hard day for me, as she and I had been close.
Mae was a true Southern lady, from Richmond, Virginia; she was highly intelligent, very strong-willed, and absolutely hilarious.
As one family story goes, when her eldest son was born, and she and her husband were living with his family in Pennsylvania. At around eight months pregnant, she told him, "I'm going to Mother's. Are you coming?" When he advised against her traveling at that late stage, she said firmly, "No child of mine is going to be born in this Yankee state."
Two years later, she did the same thing when her younger son was born.
Sixteen years later, when they were living in St. Petersburg, Florida, and she was expecting their third child, he asked if she wanted to go to her mother's again, and she said, "No, this isn't Richmond, but it's still the South."
She and I hit it off immediately, in no small part because, prior to meeting her son, I was planning to move to Richmond.
She was also instrumental in teaching me to stand up for myself - including to her own son. During one gathering at their home, my husband and his older brother walked through the Florida room en route to where they were grilling outside, and he barked an order to me to get him a Coke.
Out of habit, I started to rise, but she placed her hand on my arm, and said, "Sit down. We're having a conversation. And if he can't ask you nicely, then he can get his own damned Coke."
And so I sat, and we continued our conversation, which included his younger sister and his daughter April; and I was especially glad that April was witness to the exchange.
Because it is important for us all to honor ourselves, and to not allow others, including our spouses, to walk all over us just because they think they can. Thank you, Mae.
So, in honor of Mae, this is my first attempt at a five-minute freewrite, though obviously this particular one wasn't inspired by the daily prompt. I might get away with making it about "currying favor," but that doesn't really fit, so, no.
But next I will write one using the daily prompt. And many thanks to @mariannewest for inviting me to join in, some time ago, and sorry that it has taken me so long. ;-)
And I would love to hear your take in the comments.
Photos from Years Past – Day 89 – Daily Haiku
Claus Ogerman and Michael Brecker - In the Presence and Absence of Each Other (Part 1) - Music - Jazz
Wayward Guinea Pig, Part 2
A Friend is Upset – Day 88 – Daily Haiku
Wayward Guinea Pig – Day 87 – Daily Haiku
A Message from My 90-Year-Old Self to My Self Today
Lolo is Whining- Day 86 – Daily Haiku
Gate of Dreams - Claus Ogerman – Outstanding Jazz Album
Feeling So Grateful – Day 85 – Daily Haiku
Our Spice Bush Abounds – Day 84 – Daily Haiku
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All words and images are my own.
The photo above is of the dogwoods currently blooming at the edge of, and further in the woods, behind our house. As I noted in my previous post of my poem,"My Longest Winter's Ending," there were dogwoods blooming when we attended Mae's funeral in Richmond, Virginia. I took the photo with my Samsung Note 8 smart phone, about half an hour ago.
The photo of our dog, Lolo, and our late cat, Miod, I took as they were cooperatively begging at the dinner table, despite our longstanding rule of not feeding them from the table.
You can see how much that deterred them both.
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