By: Honey Good
In the sweet drift before sleep each night, my mind sifts through memories until it settles on something definitive. Last night was no different. I was trying to recall a special Mother-Daughter Good Morning Story to write for Mother’s Day.
My whirling thoughts reminded me of my old rolodex as I searched for one of my favorite memories. I have thousands of these stories stored in my mind. Fortunately, I add more and more because I am blessed to have my ninety-four-year-old mother.
Through all of our high hills of laughter and our potholes, when we stopped talking, our Mother-Daughter bond is unbreakable. The chemistry between my mother and me is fierce and no matter how angry I have been with her there has never been a time I did not pick up the phone and call my mother and say, “Please let’s not argue. I am sorry this is happening between us.”
The reason: My mother is the most important woman in my life. I love and respect her unconditionally.
My mother, Elaine, was born on April 14, 1921 under the sign, Aries, the Ram! This zodiac sign was an indication of things to come. She was strong willed, beautiful, bright, graduating from high school at the age of sixteen and popular. Her only bad luck was being born at the wrong time.
That did not stop her from leading a fabulous life. My mother did everything well; not because she was a perfectionist but because she had tenacity. She loved life! She was eager to explore all of its facets. She played Scrabble, completed the daily newspaper crossword puzzle, needle pointed, knit and crocheted. She played golf, skied, played every card game well, was a devoted wife, mother and homemaker, traveled, had style and to this day has many of her childhood friends.
My mother’s most significant gifts to me: I am the recipient of her knowledge, her enthusiasm and her set of values.
My rolodex stopped at a Thanksgiving Story that took place last November. It is a Mother-Daughter story.
Our family’s Thanksgiving dinner took place at a festive table decorated in shades of orange. My glamorous mother dressed to the nines presided over her brood. All eyes were on this mother of mine as she laughed and enjoyed the family festivities with her loves.
After dinner my mother and I stood in the lobby of our building laughing and chatting about the evening event, when suddenly, the doorman standing outside, accidentally pushed his clicker. The automatic doors swung outward, throwing my mother about four feet onto the granite lobby floor, breaking her hip and knocking her unconscious. She lay there looking dead; her eyes glazed and staring into nothingness.
I rushed to her side, screaming,
“Mom! Mom! Talk to me! Talk to me!”
“Shelly, I think she is dead!”
There was no response for what seemed like an eternity.
By: Honey Good
“I’m not interested in dating,” I replied to my dearest girlfriend when she mentioned the name of a man she wanted me to meet. We were walking along the Hawaiian shore at sunset. She was visiting me in Honolulu seven months after I became a widow.
By: Honey Good
My daughter, Jennifer, is an artist. She was on the Oprah Show. She is a loving mother and terrific wife. However, she is neither a cook nor a housekeeper and has told me, laughingly, that the next home they live in will not have a kitchen!
By Susan "Honey" Good
I wake up happy. It comes naturally. I look forward to facing my day with positivity. My outlook is fueled by optimism. I see my cup as half full.
No, I am not a goody two-shoes. I do, however, consider myself to be one of the lucky ones who has the ability to triumph over my adversities, with a little help from a friend. Who might she be? The ‘happy gene.’ I am thankful to my mother and my father for this happy gene of mine.
I am grateful for the happy gene because it provided me with a running start on living a charmed life. I understand that those of you who don’t have the gene have to work harder to attain happiness. Just remember, dear readers of mine, happiness is within your reach.
My husband Sheldon Good and I, both widowed fairly young, have a great big beautiful blended family. We have four children between us (one son passed away), and 24 “grands.” Eighteen are the offspring of our children, and six we welcomed into the family as spouses. And we expect to reach 36 “grands” in the not too distant future…and more once great-grandchildren start arriving!
Retire is a word that scares me because it means growing old. It forces me to face the fact that unpleasant things are going to happen—and I don’t want to go there, for 100 reasons that would take me hours to explain. I have confronted my conflict in the only way I know how: The word retire has no place in my life.
By: Honey Good
As you know, I draw my Good Morning Stories from my past experiences. I begin searching my mind, days before I put my fingers on the keyboard, for an eventful experience that has had a profound, loving or funny impact on my life.
"Tis a gift to be simple, Tis a gift to be free. ‘Tis a gift to come down where we ought to be. And when we find ourselves In the place that’s right, twill be in a valley of love and delight." 19th Century Shaker Hymn
Reading this little poem gives me immeasurable pleasure. I reread it often; each time, feeling my body de-stress and unwind. I am embracing simplicity.
It would be dream- like to believe we can always ‘simple be.’ Nevertheless, this poem empowered me to reexamine my life style, a mix of utter razzle and dazzle that often puts me into a state of utter frazzle.
I wanted to keep the razzle-dazzle and minimized the frazzle in my life style. And, being of a certain mindset I have succeeded somewhat in doing just that.