I Remember Mama

December 7th is a major remembrance day, not only for me personally, but also for our country. It marks the 75th anniversary of Pearl Harbor Day. Eight battleships, three cruisers, three destroyers, and 188 US aircraft were destroyed. In all, 2403 Americans were killed and 1178 were wounded. It was a horrific loss. For me personally, the day marks many remembrances. 41 years ago on that date, I married my first husband. 38 years ago on December 7th, we moved our very young family to New York from southern Ohio. Two years ago on December 7th, my mother passed away while my husband and I were on the Danube in Vienna, beginning a river cruise of Austria. And tomorrow, December 7th, my husband and I are headed back to Ohio, to spend time with my brother who is not well. Tonight I performed a ritual of remembrance, starting with the sewing of Christmas gifts that I can't mention (brothers might be reading this), and ending with baking the cookies my mother used to make for us so many years ago. While I sewed away, dropping bobbins and jamming threads and scaring the cat with my rather loud commentary on the art of sewing, memories of home flooded back...There were four of us kids, our parents, and our grandmother (and another orange tabby cat) in the house. It was full of color and light, especially at this time of year. Flash back to the future: both parents are gone, Grandma is long gone, and the four of us "kids" (ages 72, 68, 66, and 60) are scattered to the four winds. But tomorrow we will load up the car with homemade gifts, homemade cookies, a cooler full of fruits and cheeses, and a blizzard bag (you never know, driving across the Great Lakes states) to our destination, my middle older brother's house in Columbus, Ohio. Some of us kids will be together again for a few days. Of course, the great wheel of time has rolled around, and we are now the grandparents, we are the oldest generation. We'll sit in the kitchen, with nieces and nephews and one grandniece, plus the brothers and their wives, and catch up. And remember Christmases of long ago, and remember those who have come before and are now passed away. Enough time has passed that I can remember Mama in the kitchen at this time of year without tears in my eyes (mostly). Two years ago, she was 96 and in relatively good health and mind, so my husband and I felt OK about taking a "Christmas on the Danube" tour. The first day we spent in Vienna, sampling a Kristkindlemarket and preparing for our voyage down the famed river. That first night, I couldn't sleep. As the boat began its nighttime voyage, sleep would not come. I stood at our large window and watched the river and the locks in the darkness as we passed through them. In my mind, I could hear strands of the beautiful Strauss waltz, "The Blue Danube." I imagined my parents waltzing to that music, which they both loved (my father was a fine dancer.) When I finally went back to bed to try to sleep, there was a knock on the door...back in New York, my dear mother had passed, just as the strands of Strauss faded away in my memory there in Austria. It was December 7th, that fateful date that has held so much loss for so many. There is so much to remember on this date. I remember Mama.