Oh Mama if only...

“But there's a story behind everything. How a picture got on a wall. How a scar got on your face. Sometimes the stories are simple,
and sometimes they are hard and heartbreaking.

But behind all your stories is always your 'Mother's' story, because hers is where yours begin.”

― Mitch Albom, For One More Day

Muriel Rose Engle Johnson
November 16,1929 - November 13,2003

Thinking about our Mama this morning on May 9, 2020, the day before the day set aside so that we can honor and pay tribute to the woman who carried us and nurtured us from within her for nine months ...our Mother. 

As I have looked through these photo's of you, and you and Dad, before we were even twinkles in Dad's eyes. I have come to the reality that I do not know who you were before we came into your life. What was your life like? What were you like? What were your hopes and dreams? Did you have plans sketched out in your mind about your future? 

I know you grew up in a family, that lived off the land, growing their own food, and livestock for food, while your Daddy, Oscar Engle, when there was work would eek out a living in the Coal mines for a livelihood to buy the essentials for His wife, Sarah Bessie Terrell Engle and his 9 children. Tough times in the Kentucky Hills of Appalachia, but your Mommy  although very small in stature was mighty in her strength, her courage and her faith in her Savior, and she instilled that in her children. Your family loved one another, but they were not outwardly affectionate and kept their family trials and tribulations to themselves.  

I do know snippets and bits and pieces from listening to conversations over my lifetime with you, but I never really sat down and had a heart to heart conversation about who you were before you were our Mama. I regret that I can not get that opportunity back when I woulda, shoulda, coulda, taken the time to get to know YOU! 

Your middle name was Rose, and your first great granddaughter Sophia carries your middle name of Rose too! I know you would have liked that sweet tribute and honor bestowed by your granddaughter Amy for you. You had a green thumb and you always grew beautiful roses in your backyard, did you grow them because of your name? Your son Andy loves to grow roses too, as well as your granddaughter JoDee, so you shared your green thumb with the next generation. I went out early this morning and checked the wild rose bush by the porch and there were a beautiful stem of roses in bloom with the dew drops glinting on their lush velvet petals. I picked them and brought them in. I had taken the photo in the back bedroom and left the roses there when I came back to the front of the house to write this. As I was sitting here the sweet silky scent of rose wafted all around me and I knew in that instant that your spirit was here with me...I said Hi  Mama thank you for blessing me this morning! 

These pictures were all taken before we were a part of your life and family. You were young carefree, feisty, and joyful, I look at them and see a you I did not know. Once when Dad, and you and I were on a short trip together, I was asking both of you questions from a book for Amy about her grandparents. The one and only question and answer that I remember was when I ask you what you wanted to be when you grew up...you looked at me smiled and said "Well I wanted to be a Mommy." So I guess the questions I never asked  were summed up by you. 

Happy Mother's Day Mama. 

Your daughter and your three sons carry you in our hearts always 

as it says at the beginning of this writing...

Your story is where ours began... Thank you