Mama Told her Stories Over and Over and Over...
Mama always told the same stories-to everyone and anyone who would listen. I heard them so many times I could repeat them word for word AND be one sentence ahead of her! There were times-like when I was a teen-that those stories were so annoying to hear-yet again. However, she had taught me well that adults should be respected (whatever the personal cost) and one way that respect was demonstrated was by listening in patience (a form of love in this instance) to the stories she wanted to tell. This picture is of my mother holding her first born son-Bobby. It was taken in January of 1951. Of course, I am my mothers daughter, so I did the same thing. I told mom's stories and I told my stories and our familial stories. Until the day I caught one of my teens (respectfully not rolling eyes) but mouthing the words (two words ahead of mine) of the story I was telling. At that point I decided to do a personal check. I began observing how frequently I told the stories, who I was telling the...