Remembering Mom... and Knickers

Today I'm sharing a guest post from JOANIE, a dear friend of mine.  We have journeyed many years together, and during our friendship she shared her mom with me.  I am honored to share her memory in remembering a woman loved by many.....

A new longing has surfaced, developing into a little nagging regret.

I would very much like to thank my mom for the wool knickers she made me.  I so wish this seemingly novel desire would have gripped me before she died ten years ago.

I was 10 years old and the only one in our family learning how to ski.  Even though I was quite fond of my wool knickers, I just took it for granted that my mom made them for me.  Didn’t everyone’s mother know how to sew that well?  Making wool knickers for  me to wear skiing, wasn’t that just a normal duty for a mother?  I can still feel how much I adored my knickers.  The fabric, the style, the colors still so tangible, but mostly I remember that I just felt really good whenever I wore them.  Without realizing it at that time, I think I just felt so loved in those knickers - specially and uniquely cared for.  Amazingly, I can experience those same securing emotions now all over again, 47 years later, by just seeing those knickers in my memory’s vivid view.

Those two pair of wool knickers always kept me perfectly warm in our Montana winters as I bravely embraced cold snowy mountains.  However, I do think much of that warmth was that of my mother’s deep lovingkindness in which I was always so very comfortable.  One pair was soft medium gray with very thin lines of red, blue & green making a very subtle pattern.  Not garish at all, but rather nicely artistic.  I always wore them with long bright red socks underneath which was pretty much standard for skiers in those days with knickers.  My laced up ski boots also had bright red laces.  My especially tailored just for me knickers gave me a sense of confidence, a clear advantage in persevering during that early struggle of learning to ski.  My mother was a very adventurous person with great athletic ability.  Had she grown up in Montana instead of Ohio, I am sure she would have been an avid and talented skier.   Those knickers were part of her ongoing lifetime message to me, “I am with you all the way, I want you to have fun and enjoy your life.”

I wish I could thank my mom for my wonderful knickers and for all the love she sewed into their seams.  More than that I would very much like to express my gratitude for the deeper, bigger, lifelong gift those cherished knickers have been (and will continue to be) to this middle aged woman who still feels warmly loved by a deeply caring and giving mother. She gave me a strong advantage for life.  Now, I never ski down a mountain without thanking my mom for my knickers.

“My heart is full and I thank you.”

"Graphic by Broken Box Designs, LLC."

Happy Mother's Day, Liz; we love and miss you!