Discove r Cit yV iewN C.co m's fre s h up d ate d loo k ! | 13
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e find was poignant. It was copied at
a time for her when divorce blistered
her self-confidence but her dignity
demanded that she press on. I am not
sure if it was aer she was remarried
to our beloved Pop Pop or not. I do
know that she was counseling her
unconventional son. She was being
Mom.
It is funny to me that the pages have
red clay mud spots all over them. It
is microcosmic of my journey. e
sweetest of things, a poem copied
by my mom and given with all
tenderness, spotted by its recipient's
red mud.
e mud enhances the treasure rather
than soils it.
Most of you know something of the
poem. It is the famous one by Robert
Fulgham – "All I Really Need to Know
I Learned in Kindergarten." e one
where the sandbox at Sunday School
was the greatest of classrooms. Where
you hold hands crossing the street and
wash them before you eat. Where you
indulge in cookies and milk. How you
are to apologize for transgressions. Put
things back in their place. You learn
and think and draw and paint and
sing and dance every day.
Without transition, as if it was part
of the poem, she closes with two
paragraphs of commentary. She talks
about what a beautiful world it would
be if we all cleaned up our own messes
and we had cookies and milk in the
middle aernoon and then took a little
nap.
God bless you, Mom, and a truly
Happy Mother's Day now that you
can fully grasp what I am saying to
you. anks for that letter back then.
anks for helping me miss you now.
It feels just right.
I think I will have an Oreo.
