A Homespun Memory

     Years ago, I wrote a poem that my mama liked very much.  ‘Course, bein’ the recipient of pure love an’ parent-pride, I never questioned whether she liked it for the poem or because I was her offspring.  To me, the fact that she liked this particular poem touched a special chord in my heart.  When mama passed away, I wanted to do somethin’ to honor her.  Finally, when it was time to buy a headstone, I felt that the best way I could honor her was to give somethin’ of myself that she loved.  The Poem.
     Years later, I tentatively entered my poem in a contest that was open to all countries, certain that I would finally learn that Mama’s appreciation was founded in her love for her child.  To my great surprise, I won Honorable Mention.  I dunno’ if anything has ever surprised or pleased me more than that award because I finally felt that I truly had given my mama somethin’ worthwhile.  Naturally, she an’ I shared a special moment that day.  Whilst I visited her grave, I cried tears of loneliness that she was gone an’ tears of joy that I had given a part of myself that she loved.
     In case you have difficulty reading the words on the headstone, here is a copy of the poem:
Homespun; fireplace; the smell of pitchy pine chips;
Burning; smouldering; dying.
The milk cow; milk; cream; butter;
Salted; churning, slowly churning.
Voices; Mama; Daddy; neighbors;
Children laughing, running, playing games.
Fields; plowed; planted; watered;
Yielding food for folks and critters,
To start again; Homespun.

                        By: Just Joany 1979

     Thank you for sharing this memory with me.  Until the next time, keep a hug on.

 ~ Yaya


14 thoughts on “A Homespun Memory

  1. I like it, it evokes the feelings of childhood in me when I was growing up on my grandparents farm. All safe and warm, the youngest in the family. Always felt protected and loved. I will confess that I failed at milking the cow when I was 5 and then tried to suck the milk out ….. hey, I was only 5. A very naive 5, not like the 5 year olds of today.

  2. Thanks, Kathy. That's kinda' how I felt when I wrote it, actually. I was remembering times at my uncle's farm.That's neat about tryin' to suck the milk. You were doin' better than I was. It took yeeeears before I figured out whether the cow laid eggs or the chicken gave milk. After all, they were both white an' for some reason that thoroughly confused me. I felt that whichever did the one hadda' also do the other. LOL. Go figure. ~ Yaya

  3. That poems feels like a cloud floating up on the sky that makes you dream a little dream. Lovely!Following your lovely blog and inviting you to add this at http://olahmomma.com/momlounge – a mommy blogger directory and more, where you can also meet more mom bloggers like you and get connected with them by visiting your profile after registration. You can also add there your giveaways and business links; get featured by sharing your crafts, recipes and interesting musings.Following us back is deeply appreciated. Thanks and have a great day!http://olahmomma.com — blogging and connecting blogging moms.{all moms welcome}P.S. Have you ONE New year's resolution you can resolve? We are inviting you to share it here: http://olahmomma.com/momlounge/node/add/mom-musings, and choose the category Resolutions You Can Resolve 2011. Contributors' articles are featured.

  4. miss yaya that was so nice a way for remembering how you and your mom had that nice time together. remembering good stuf is just real good. that a really neat head stone. i like that farm stuff in your poem. its got a real happy feel on it….hugs from lenny

  5. That's lovely, Yaya! I'm sure your mother was very proud of you and happy, too, because your poem acknowkedges/reflects a very happy childhood! What more could a mother ask for?

  6. Thank you, Olah Momma. That's an impressive site. It took me awhile to figure out how to Follow you, but I think I did it right. An' those Filipino Macaroons look delicious. I'm gonna' try 'em, for sure. ~ Yaya

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