• Aria Jade arrived early at 12:50 p.m. Wednesday, May 15, before most readers even had a chance to see this column. She is the first grandchild of Cherokee Scout Publisher David Brown.
    Aria Jade arrived early at 12:50 p.m. Wednesday, May 15, before most readers even had a chance to see this column. She is the first grandchild of Cherokee Scout Publisher David Brown.

Love for our mamas never dies

    For the first time since my beloved mother and grandmother passed in 2017, and with my wife visiting our daughters hours away, I was alone on Mother’s Day. Inside, I felt even emptier than the house, with just three dogs to shower with affection.
    The last two-plus years haven’t been easy, as those of you who have already been through this know all too well. The mom-shaped hole in my heart isn’t going away, but the love I have for them is just as strong as ever. So what do you do with all that emotion?
    To be honest, I cried, which is what we’re supposed to do when we miss someone. Then I went on Facebook.
    I know, it’s more popular nowadays to say you hate the
social media juggernaut rather than admit being one of the
estimated 2.1 billion people worldwide who have profiles on the online platform. However, when used in the manner for which it was created, Facebook can bring an entire world into your perspective with just a few touches of your smart phone screen.
    And what I saw Sunday was a whole lotta people who love their mamas.
    My 1,276 friends posted photos of their moms when they were young women. They posted photos of their moms likely saving their lives by keeping them from doing something dumb while growing up. And they posted – my personal favorites – photos of themselves next to their white-haired moms and grandmas, with both wearing great big ol’ smiles stretching as long as North Carolina.
    Suddenly, I wasn’t as sad anymore. Knowing many of my friends also had the kind of relationships I had with my mom and grandma filled me with happiness. Reading all the loving things other people wrote about their mamas brought back plenty of good memories of time spent with mine.
    Of course, I also saw many folks who were missing their mamas. Somewhat amazingly, I didn’t feel so alone anymore. But there’s still the question of what to do with all the love we have for them.
    Then my youngest showed me the most recent ultrasound photo of her unborn daughter. Even a month away from birth, she already weighs more than 6 pounds and has a full head
of thick black hair. Her hand
was covering her sweet face as if to tell the camera to back off, she’s napping right now and will come on out when she’s good and ready.
    I never thought love at first sight was a real thing, but today I’m a believer.
    Finally, I understand why all those “begats” in the Old Testament are so important. My blood, and the blood of my mom and grandma, is already flowing through my granddaughter’s veins. We never truly die as long as our bloodline, and the stories people tell about us, live on. To an Abraham or King David, God’s promise that the Messiah would be a member of their family was a gift far greater than money or fame.
    Knowing my granddaughter will be among us soon fills me with hope that was missing before. Our sometimes dark world seems a little lighter. I can even smile among the tears, knowing how much my mom and grandma would have loved everything about this little girl.
    I guess that means it’s my job to make up for all of that missing love, laughter and smiles – and with plenty of room to spare. Hopefully you can look forward to seeing those photos by Grandparents Day.

The Cherokee Scout

Mailing Address:
89 Sycamore St. 

Murphy, NC 28906
Phone: 828-837-5122
Fax: 828-837-5832