Just One More Day With Wanda

Aqua Christmas

Yesterday’s post struck a sad place within my heart so I wanted to take today in a different direction, though in the end…I’m not sure I have. I’ve really loved all the reminiscing we’ve been doing this month. There were certainly Christmases that were difficult for me growing up and I don’t have good memories of them. But most of my holiday memories are all warm and fuzzy.

Blonde wooden end table

I ran across this photo the other day on Pinterest. Remember aqua? Mom let me “redecorate” the living room when I was in high school. Man…that woman must have loved me to the core to let me do what I did to her house! First, we bought the aqua sofa. Then I painted the walls a lighter shade of aqua. We found a room sized remnant of a dark aqua shag rug that I put down. I found shiny drapes in the same dark aqua. We bought these blonde wood end tables, probably at Sid’s Furniture. The lamps had odd angles and big shades. The piece de resistance was a big wall clock with an atomic sunburst pattern. OMGosh! It was like living in an aquarium! Too bad we didn’t have this aqua Christmas tree. That would have been a hoot. My poor mom kept that color in her living room till the day she died some 44 years later.

Grey Formica dinette

Our kitchen was so small. The walls were pale yellow. We had this same grey Formica table and chairs. The countertop was green with metal trim around the edges. Mom put up sunny yellow curtains with ruffles and it looked so cheery. The bathroom had pink fixtures. Mom let me paint and wallpaper in there sometime in the ‘80s. Remember when peach was a color you painted walls? Turquoise, peach with pink, yellow with green and grey. Lord have mercy. Mom loved it…because I did it. She wouldn’t let me change a thing. Partially because it meant she might have to get rid of stuff and I can absolutely relate to how daunting a chore that is.

It took months to fix it all up after she passed so I could sell her house. She would have loved the changes. I think. Maybe. I loved the new look. It was hard to sell that house when I was done and I’ve regretted the decision ever since.

I miss my mom. I miss our talks every Sunday. I miss her cool hands on my brow. I miss her calling me “Sis”. Or, Virginia Lynne if she was mad at me. I miss her naïveté to the ways of the world. I miss her big, loving heart. I miss making her laugh till she couldn’t catch her breath. I miss her spirit and her attempts at cussing. She couldn’t spit the words out. I miss her loyalty and her generosity. I miss her especially at Christmas. She used to frustrate the heck out of me, which is what moms sometimes do to their daughters, I think. But….oh my. What I wouldn’t give to spend just one more day with Wanda. ❤️

“So also you have sorrow now, but I will see you again, and your hearts will rejoice, and no one will take your joy from you.”
‭‭John‬ ‭16:22‬ ‭ESV‬‬

12 thoughts on “Just One More Day With Wanda

  1. One more day with my mom who went too soon at 95 Years old is what would make me smile this holiday. Her wit and sarcasm were legend in our family along with her abounding love for us all. Just one more hug.

  2. So awesome! My mom let me decorate as well! I got to do the reaction in a Jamaican theme! I even painted wall murals with palm trees!

  3. Your mom knew you had talent and the room sounds very ‘hip’ for its day. The “kids’ are loving that style now! What a great memory!
    My mother was a saint. We kids gave her premature grey hair, not out of pure orneriness, but from our curious and fearless natures. We were a new generation exposed to TV and blatant advertising– a new force that entered our lives and advised us, circumventing the rule of our parents. It was a hard testing ground, and must have been bewildering to our folks. Mom carried on, living a good, dutiful and exemplary life, modeling what care and love was about. I miss, but always repeat, at least some part of her Christmas rituals which came around like clockwork: family candy specialties, Christmas dinner and late supper, gatherings with relatives; as much to try to include he–years after she died–rather than to savor the trimmings and activities for myself.

  4. I loved working with Wanda. The children were her #1 focus and she had no trouble telling anyone if she thought they were slacking, or my favorite, sitting down on the playground bench instead of playing with the kids. ?

  5. I miss my mother so during the holidays especially. She passed unexpectedly at her home on December 22, 1995. We were numb, my brother, sister and I. We all came together for one last Christmas together, under my roof, while we faced our grief together. I had my three children with their spouses with me, my husband, and my two tiny grandsons.
    It was the longest Christmas ever. We were burying her in another state, next to our dad and grandparents, which meant nothing was happening until after Christmas. Christmas morning we all gathered around the tree and opened gifts for the babies’ sake. Hearts were heavy and nothing bore home our loss more than the sight of presents left lonely under the tree after we had all opened our gifts. Those gifts represented the one person no longer with us to share the Christmas memories.

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