Ode to Saint Donna

All mothers are special. Incredibly special. Outstanding. They all have their own special talents and attributes and we should be so thankful for them. As for me, I am especially grateful that my mother is a Saint. She may not have been recognized by the Pope, (yet…), but she is forever recognized in my heart and mind.

Growing up in my mother’s household, our clothing and blankets were sewn by her hands. Our costumes for ballet, elaborate and dashing, were made by her hands as well. She decorates and cooks better than Martha Stewart, only she doesn’t have a staff to help her. Her house is always immaculate.

If there are three main lessons that I have learned from my mom, the first is that there is a God, He loves us all, and He does not discriminate. She taught us to respect and value all religions, and to never act like we had “all the answers”. The second is that all people should be treated with respect and dignity. She deliberately taught us not to subscribe to the stereotypes, labeling, and prejudices that the world tried so hard to ingrain in us. The last was that she taught us to believe in ourselves and follow our dreams, whatever they may be. And this is a good thing, because she had three daughters who were quite the dreamers. She encourages us in whatsoever we may aspire to be, no matter how big or small.

Growing up, she was our biggest cheerleader. Any activity we were involved in, from school to extracurricular activities, she volunteered to help with. She was very popular among my friends, and continues to be, for there is just no one like Donna.

No one.

My mother, she is a smart cookie. Brilliant really. This part might make her blush, but she has almost a photographic memory. She knows a lot about just about everything. She remembers every face and every name, and incredible details, no matter how long it has been. She owned a hardware store when we were growing up, and faced the inevitable sexism that she encountered with grace, courage, and gumption. Because, at the end of the day, she knew more, gave more, and cared more. And people respected that.

The greatest gift my mother has given to the world is her love and passion for people. She has never met a stranger. She would give the shirt off her back to anyone, in a heartbeat. She is generous with her money, time, and talents. She is an artist. She is talented and special.

Oh, how I love my mother….

So yes, my mother is a Saint. For she worked and sacrificed for our family with every ounce of energy that she had. I don’t know where she gets that energy, but it is abundant. Everyone who meets her just loves her. And why? Because her love and positive energy radiates wherever she goes.

I can never even hope to be half the mother as the one that I have. If I am just one percent of the fabulous mother/grandmother that she is, I will be a fine one.

So to Saint Donna, I say, I love you. I admire you. I honor you.

Happy Mother’s Day!


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I am a wife, mother, RN, make-up artist, and musician, who also happens to have a mood disorder. Fortunately, I will not let the latter define me. I am also a survivor of suicide loss. This website is dedicated to my brother, Jefferson Joseph Blanton-Harris ("Joey"). This site is to share thoughts about beauty, fashion, and most of all, mental health. Because fabulousness starts with good mental health! ~"I only want to see you laughing in the Purple Rain" - Prince

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