Saturday, July 28, 2012
My mother told the greatest stories. She was so animated as we would be rolling on the floor listening to the misadventures of her youth. She could be incredibly silly, break out in tiny little character voices or be in great big full voice in song. She could also be incredibly firm and didn’t earn the nickname Big Rit’ for nothing.
Her heart and the random acts of kindness to people who had previously been strangers was as full as her prayer box – all intentions some of those same people would send along asking for her prayers. The rosary was said on her Mothers beads-very special beads that were called upon in times of great need. Those beads have now passed into my hands.
She was really talented. She could play the Hawaiian steel guitar in a way like no other, she would give any schooled event planner a run for their money and Rita Mobley was an original when it came to writing jingles. She could do wonders with ground beef and was so good at mixing up hand me down clothes years later we would marvel when looking at school pictures how a single shirt could seamlessly travel from sibling to sibling school year to school year and never quite look the same.
Today marks 3 years since she passed. Sometimes it seems like yesterday. Sometimes it seems a hundred years ago. I remember at her funeral mass while giving her eulogy saying growing up our house was always full-of laughter, of energy. I felt there should be a sign out front that said:
MOBLEY RESIDENCE, ENTERTAINMENT NIGHTLY, ENTER AT YOUR OWN RISK
I can tell you – it would have been worth the risk. We had a lot of fun – we have a lot of memories. When I look at my brother and my sisters, even my children or nieces and nephews…I see pieces of my mother and we all carry her with us still. In our hearts, in our minds, in our spirit and in the legacy she left us to carry on. Rita Marie Tanzi Mobley – May 22, 1938 – July 28, 2009. My mother had a lot of DASH between those years.
Don't waste a moment. Make the most of everything you've got-because someday it might be the only thing, the most important thing, someone has to remember you by.
