February 23, 2010 | My Jottings
I have now lived seventeen years without a mama. My mother, Virginia Sooter, died on February 23, 1993.
I’ve tried to write about her on this blog several times, only to set my attempts aside for another time. Writing about my mom opens up things in my memory that could come out as thousands and thousands of words. I never quite know where to start in telling people about my beloved mom. I will share about her more in-depth in the near future, but for today, I want to write a few words and phrases that described her.
Beautiful. Warm. Musically gifted. Generous. Worry-wart. Plump. Melancholic. Humble. Loving. Witty. Creative. Sensitive. Self-conscious. Hardworking.
She was a good sport and could laugh at herself. She could listen to a song once, move to her Hammond B-3 organ and play it perfectly, in any key. She had over a hundred friends, making them all feel like they were her best friend. And she probably didn’t know she did this. She had a hearty laugh. She was really tall, and had very long legs and a short torso. She had long, slender fingers. She loved to cook and feed people too much food. She was almost crazy with love for her grandchildren. She was easily wounded. She could paint. She loved crafts. She wore a size 11 1/2 AA shoe. She made up a yummy peanut butter and chocolate frosting recipe our whole family still loves to this day. She was lonely, in spite of being so loved. She could hear a song on the radio and identify in which key it was being played. She believed in Jesus. She cried easily. She had two sons and one daughter. She loved to watch cooking shows. She had macular degeneration of the retina. She was very neat. She loved to play Spite and Malice. She died too soon. She would be out of this world in love with my sons-in-law and grandchildren, and would be so proud of my three wonderful daughters.
Typing this is making me sob right now, so I’ll share more another time.
Here is a photo of my mama and me, when I was about 4 1/2 years old. It was taken in my grandparents’ home in Southern California. My mom wasn’t much of a reader when I was little, but she read to me. I can tell she was laughing in this photo as the amazing world of books and words was opening up to me. She was holding a paper cup from In-n-out Burgers, where our family ate at least once a month.
She loved me and told me over and over that she was so happy to have a daughter. I was her youngest child.
I have lived seventeen years without a mama. I know where she is. She is no longer blind, no longer lonely or melancholy, and she probably knows more about my life than I can imagine.
Now I am doing for my grandchildren what she did for me in this photo.
I have so much to say to her when I see her again.
I love you Mom.