The day to honor our mothers is once again coming up. Thing is, my Mama is gone, now, and whenever Mother’s Day rolls around, I find myself with nothing other than memories to dwell upon, along with a lonely trip to the graveyard. But when it comes to those memories, it fills my heart with nostalgia and I can’t help but smile at those times of happiness I once shared with my Mama June “Bug.”

I couldn’t be more than a couple-of-weeks old, here.

June was actually Mama’s middle name; she hated her first name and she never used it other than when necessary, and I’ll certainly honor her memory by not revealing it here. I certainly understand the reason for her feelings about the name; I never liked my middle name and, fortunately, I don’t have to use it for anything, other than official use, which is seldom. And, of course, in the family, she ended up getting nicknamed June “Bug,” in a loving way, though she was actually seldom called that. To me, she was always Mama, not Mom, or Mother, just Mama.

Cooking Skills

One of Mama’ greatest gifts was her skill at cooking. Oh, how I miss her touch in the kitchen. She prepared some of the most favorite meals I’ve ever had, such as swiss steak, liver and onions, chicken and dumplings and, of course, her fantastic southern fried chicken, which always put Colonel Sanders to shame. Even better, was her preparation of desserts. The best of all of them were her brownies and cobblers. Fortunately, for me, she left behind a box of index cards with all her recipes which I have made great use of while sharpening my culinary skills. I just wish I’d paid more attention to her and watched and asked more questions instead of just waiting for her to yell out, “It’s suppertime, come on!”

Love of Music

My love of music came from Mama. She loved her country music and passed that on to me. When she bought me my first guitar, the first thing I was ordered to learn to play in Mother Maybelle’s finger-picking style was the famous Carter Family song “Wildwood Flower”. And once I learned that, I spent many an hour learning to play the songs she loved so she could sing along with my playing for she had a beautiful voice. I still have some old 78 RPM record albums of her and her father singing gospel songs, accompanied by her sister on the piano, which were recorded off of radio station WWNC here in Asheville back in the 1940s. But when the 70s came along, me and Mama parted musical ways. I’ll never forget her yelling at me to turn the volume on my record player down, especially when I was playing my Santana albums because she hated them! But I still held onto my early love of country music and to this day some of my favorites are Hank Williams, Johnny Cash and Waylon Jennings, a breed that no longer exists in this new age of so-called country music.

Love of Books and the World

But the greatest gift that Mama gave me was her love of books. She taught me how important it was to read and learn. And over the years, we spent uncounted hours discussing the books we’d read and shared. And then, there was also the time we spent just talking about what was going on in the world for news was always an important topic of discussion. The conversations we had were totally open; nothing was taboo, even if the talk was between a mother and a son. It was from these deep talks that the man I now am was formed with the aid of a wise and gentle woman.

Mama with her two boys, me and my younger brother Stan. This was a few years back; we’re both still slim and trim and have no gray hair!

So, yeah, I really do miss you, Mama, and wish you were here for there is so much I would love to share with you. It was when I was in the Philippines and met Lynndee that you had to go to the nursing home. And before I could get her here and marry her, you were gone, so you never got to meet her. But such is life. Still, I’ll never forget, Mama. I’ll always love you…thanks for the memories.