It’s Mother’s Day weekend and as we celebrate the sheer awesomeness of the best club anyone could ever be initiated into The Mamas I’m thinking about two specific women who played a significant role in my role as Mari and Lila’s mom: Bettye Millner, my mom, and Hilda Hutcherson, the OB-GYN whose capable hands ushered my firstborn into the world.
From “The Most Precious Mother’s Day Gift Of All,” the piece I wrote about Hilda on today’s Parenting Post:
She may not recognize, remember or think that what she did for me that night was all that special; goodness only knows how many babies Hilda Hutcherson delivered in her years as a well-respected, top OB-GYN in one of the busiest cities in the world. But I will never, ever forget Hilda the kindness she showed to me, the kindness she showed my body, the kindness she demanded I give myself by taking care of my health. And for sure, I'll never forget that she left her vacation and drove three hours in the middle of the night to help me receive the most precious Mother's Day gift this mom could ever receive: flesh of my flesh, blood of my blood my beautiful baby girl.
And here, “I’ll Always Love My Mama,” a vintage MyBrownBaby essay about my mother:
I'm not sure what made me think about her today. I was in the grocery store, smelling the over-priced strawberries when my mother suddenly popped into my mind. It happens like that, you know I'll be doing something absolutely mundane, and there she'll be, standing in the bathroom mirror of my childhood home, putting on her lipstick and adjusting her church hat; or standing over me and my Dad, watching us eat that extra sweet potato pie she baked just for us, because she knew we wouldn't be able to keep our hands off the two she made for Thanksgiving dinner; or singing a silly song to my Mari, which, even loud and off-key, always managed to make my then-baby girl fall fast asleep. Sometimes, the memories make me giggle a little. Sometimes, I can't quite control the tears, and I'm blinded by overwhelming sadness.
A lot of times, I just miss her so.
I am forever grateful to Hilda, and forever in love my mother, whom, almost nine years after her death, I still miss as if she left just yesterday. But this year isn’t about mourning her; instead, I’ll remember her life and the time we had together and pray that the memories never, ever fade.
Happy Mother’s Day, you guys. Hug your babies, love on your mamas and enjoy your special day!