I Remember Mama
The Power of Personal Touchstones
I remember Mama this week, reflecting on personal touchstones that keep her alive in my memory. The definition of a personal touchstone is “any object that represents a special person or significant memory for us.” I visited one such personal touchstone for me this week in New York City, which is why I was standing in the middle of a midtown city sidewalk by myself talking to a statue. It was New York City, so nobody batted an eye at a grown man talking to a statue. To explain, let me go back earlier in this week. For those of you who read my newsletters regularly, you’ve heard me often mention my Daddy. Well, this post is about my Mama, Marie Smith. This past Monday, February 19th was her birthday. Mama sadly passed away only 10 weeks after Daddy died in 2018. I miss them both each day. And as much as I get my love of storytelling from Daddy, Mama could tell lots of stories as well.
When I was growing up in north Georgia during the 1970’s Mama recounted stories to me of her childhood growing up in the 1950’s and 1960’s. Her stories were filled with fascinating people I never met, family members when they were much younger, laughter and tears, good times, and bad times, and often a music reference or connection because music was so important to Mama. She had long console stereo with a turntable, radio, and 8-track cassette tape player where she kept all of her records and cassettes. I would listen to her music all the time with her, and also remember watching her playing a favorite record in the morning as she rushed around getting ready for work and drinking her morning coffee. As I sit here and write this today, drinking my morning coffee looking out on the West Virginia mountains, I can still picture and hear those songs and Mama dancing around and singing, bringing a smile to my face. While that old console stereo is sadly long gone, I still have those records of Mama’s at home and pull them out sometimes to listen and hear and see Mama once again. They are one of my touchstones connecting me to Mama. Mama also loved to make up bedtime stories for me as a young child. Way before another Georgian invented the Cabbage Patch Kids, a doll that became a huge craze in the 1980’s, Mama used to tell me stories about a family of little people who lived in the kudzu patch. Now, if you don’t know, growing up in the south, there was kudzu everywhere! It is an invasive climbing and trailing vine plant species also known as Japanese or Chinese arrowroot that was introduced from Japan in the 1876 Centennial Exposition in Philadelphia. It was originally a garden plant, but then used by farmers as a way to stop soil erosion. However, it took hold and spread like wildfire. There are dense kudzu patches all over my hometown, and Mama entertained me with adventure stories of a secret little family who lived in the kudzu patch near our house. Now, every time I pass some kudzu, I smile and think of Mama and her make believe stories. Even an invasive vine like kudzu is a touchstone for me to happy memories.
Coming back to the reason I was talking to a statue in the middle of a midtown New York City sidewalk this week, in the 1970’s Mama and I would also watch TV together, and one of the shows we watched was called The Honeymooners. It was a show about two working class families living in a small Brooklyn apartment building in New York City. One of the main characters, Ralph Kramden, was a New York City bus driver. Now, years later, there’s a statue of Ralph Kramden outside of the New York Port Authority Bus Terminal in Manhattan on 8th Avenue. After Mama died in 2018, whenever I visited New York and saw the statue of Ralph Kramden it reminded me of her and pulled on my heartstring in a positive way. In 2019, my husband and I moved to New York for my job at the time and we lived on West 43rd between 8th and 9th Avenues. The Port Authority Bus Terminal was just a couple blocks away from us, and many times I passed the statue of Ralph Kramden, each time smiling and thinking of Mama and me watching the Honeymooners show so many years before. The statue became my touchstone to remember Mama. Then, when the COVID pandemic hit in early 2020, the city was left empty, and the world seemed a scary place. Walking through the city after dinner, I would pass the statue of Ralph Kramden and it reminded me of Mama while also providing comfort and assurance that the world would be ok.
Now, just about four years after those dark days of the COVID pandemic, we have relocated back to the Washington D.C. suburbs, and on my work trip up to New York this past week, I stopped by to visit an old friend, my touchstone, the Ralph Kramden statue, and talk with Mama. And once again, I felt a sense of peace knowing that even though there are lots of things going on in the world right now and many personal and professional challenges and opportunities I’m facing, everything will be ok, and I remember Mama.
As always, I encourage each of you to reflect on your stories of personal touchstones and how they may encourage, motivate, strengthen, and inspire you today in whatever challenges you are encountering. Watch for those personal touchstones and discover their importance and power to help you along your journey.
