Me and my Momma

Kathryn Lenelle Lipe Cuevas

1941 - 1989

One of the last pictures of my Momma and Me.

My wedding October 1987

I am so much like my Momma that at times its pure scary. I look like her. I think like her. Same build (although shorter). Hate taking pills. Love a good joke. Hard working. Love for baking. So on and so forth.

I lost my Momma to cancer in 1989. She was only 47 and I was only 24. She bravely fought it to the end. I know she had to have been scared but she never let us know. In my eyes my Momma was the strongest, bravest, smartest woman I have ever known. She was... IS... my hero!

I had the perfect Mom. Although I know at times she may not have thought so. With us being so much alike we often butted heads. At times it seems I got my rear spanked or my mouth popped weekly. I do admit to being a mouthy child. Not the back talking kind but the lawyer kind. You know ... stating my case long after I was told to shut up. More times than not, I was punished for the acts of my brother than my own. The lawyer child would came out and I would talk fast trying to state my case. But I always knew my Momma loved me... Always.

She worked sometimes 7 to 7, 7 days a week to make ends meet. She always found ways to spend free time with us. If my brother or I needed some private time with her we would catch her in the tub and talk away. She never complained... she would give us her undivided attention, no matter how long it took. I could talk to my Momma about anything. No subject was off limits. I could ask any question and she would answer. Even after I moved away I could call her anytime, she was always there with an answer, a laugh or the reassurance I sought.

Like I said earlier, Momma and I are a lot alike. As I was in the kitchen last night preparing supper, I got to thinking about my Momma. It occurred to me that our lives have taken almost the same paths. We have experienced a lot of the same life dramas and traumas. I stood there wondering if what I am dealing with in my life is what she dealt with too. Then I knew there may be one thing my Momma and I may not have in common. I don't feel I am mentally as brave as she was. If I was, I wouldn't have allowed things to get the way they are in my life. Then I wondered... maybe some of the decisions she made in her life were made because she felt the same way and felt that they were the only way to fix it and get control of her life again. Once she made those decisions she lived with the consequences of those decisions and she did so bravely. I'm not that brave... yet. Will I ever be????

Oh how I wish I could talk to my Momma... I need some of her reassurance and a hug!!