My mother’s daughter

I have three sisters all from the same two parents. We are quite varied in just about every way you could imagine. We are brunettes and blonds. We are short and tall, thin and thick. We are Republicans and Democrats, we are Baptists and Buddhists, we are tree huggers and fashion aficionados. How can we be so vastly different?

As a diverse team of individuals, each of us with our own strengths, my sisters and I have made up an impenetrable force in caring for our mother in her final year. My little sister posted about her fondest memories of mom letting her set the table with her fine English china at so young an age she could barely reach the table. It was important and impactful to her. I have no memories like that at all.

This set me to thinking.

Mom was a killer tennis player and might have been a pro had not her failing eyesight prohibited it. She painted, she dabbled in ceramics, she was an avid gardener, and she collected china (amongst other things). She was a kick-ass bowler. She loved to swim. She was a world traveler, thanks to life with a World War II decorated military officer, and pilot, my father. She was tough as nails, enduring all manner of difficulties, not the least of which was raising four willful daughters. But raise us she did, to the best of her abilities. Life was always interesting, with new things to see, new projects to work on, and various lessons to attend.

When my oldest daughter was about three, we were in the family pool. I wasn’t wearing my glasses, so could not see well, but noticed a movement in the water that looked familiar. I’m not squeamish about spiders and snakes at all, but having a copper head swimming around you while you hold your young child is a bit scary. I stayed calm, though, and Mom dashed to the garden tools, returning with a hoe. She carefully hooked the stripped creature and carried it through the yard and across the street to the woods and let it go. That’s how I think of mom. Cool under pressure, quick to act, and keenly interested and respectful of life and nature.

Mother gave herself to us. We, in turn, are each a selection of the various unique and amazing pieces of her.

Marie Hamner Campbell  March 17, 1927 - February 22, 2022