Surviving My Mother's Death. Weekly Post. Part 18.

It can be difficult to understand those of us who are our parent's only children. As the only child of my parent's marriage and My mother's only child, after their divorce, my mother raised me differently than perhaps some of my family and friends. I was never raised with the sense that I couldn't achieve, no matter how long it took. As a kid, I always played "in charge" of something in my finished basement with friends or stuffed animals. I'm sure there is a picture somewhere of me and my stuff animals or friends around a table where I'm telling them what to do. Bossy? Perhaps. Friendly and creative? Definitely. See, very different!

Also, I didn't like to share. For instance, sharing my toys was NOT in my vocabulary , LOL and honestly I still don't (men, money, etc). But, I loved to have parties, be around others, go to events and be in organizations. I was never the type that wanted to stand alone all of the time. I was blessed to have a mother that tried to make me less of a brat and more of an outgoing person. So, I learned to have parties where I allowed others to play with my dolls ( occasionally, lol) and realized that it was OK for others to lead.

I didn't ALWAYS have to be in charge.

Thank you mamma.

-Sherri M. Littleton

Last week's Post:

https://sherrimlittleton.blogspot.com/2021/06/surviving-my-mothers-death-part-18.html

Comments

How I am dealing with my Mother's Death- one year and a half later.

Mother's Day has gone by and it was just as painful as it was last year, during the beginning stages of the pandemic. It just sucked. There is no sugar coating about it. Not having my mother, my protector and my best friend here with me is hard but having the constant reminders of that day with ads in the stores and online made it worse. Then I realized there are so many people that are probably feeling this way but feel bad saying it out loud. Well, I don't. Losing my rock, motivator and loving protector will probably never get better. But, I realized that I no longer have to put on a facade for others to prevent from bringing them down. That is not my job or anyone's job that lost their mother to make other's feel comfortable. So, I started this blog for those of us in this particularly 'special club' that nobody wants to be in but we are here. Now the question is how do we survive being members? -Sherri M. Littleton 5/17/2021

My Mother's Only Child. Cornbread Dressing

For the first time since my mother's death 4 years ago, I made a decision to cook at home and not participate in a Friendsgiving this year. I have some of the loveliest people in my inner circle that have truly been there for me, but I needed to cook and recreate my mother's dishes. So that is what I did. I made a complete Thanksgiving dinner, like I've done many times before, but just for me. Although that may seem lonely for some, I delighted in prepping the same way my mother would for the holidays. I got up early in the morning, started on the pie and chopped the veggies, marinated the meat and made the sides. I was humming the entire time and loved it. But something different was that I added a bit of my grandmother's recipe into the dressing. I used celery, not celery salt but actually celery. Anyone that knows me understands how much I usually cannot stand the taste of celery. It was to the point that my mother stopped using it all together. But this year,

My Mother's Only Child. Macaroni and Cheese

As an only child, my mother would often make meals from scratch to suit both of our taste. However, as a kid, I was a picky eater. It was really difficult for me to try new things because I liked certain dishes more than others and wouldn't agree to anything else. As most kids, I loved mac n cheese. But specifically, I loved my mom's baked mac n cheese, to the point I wouldn't dare eat anyone else's. I remember as a kid, everyone at our Baptist church and my mom's government job requested my mom's baked mac n cheese for potluck dinners. I refused to eat my friends' mothers box mac n cheese and only would trust a few family members recipes including my grandma and moms' sisters to also make it right. It even got to a point where my father remarried and tried to guilt me into saying his new wife mac n cheese was better than my mother's dish. I refused because even though I was a kid I knew I wasn't going to lie, especially about cooking.

SherriMLittleton

Search This Blog