“Creativity is allowing yourself to make mistakes. Art is knowing which ones to keep” — Scot Adams, cartoonist

Yes, I’ve been known to make mistakes once in a while, probably more than I want to admit. But, everyone makes mistakes now and then. Mistakes are so easy to make and so confusing to correct that it takes all the fun out of making one. I don’t recall keeping any mistake I ever made. I’ve tried hiding a few, but without much success. I believe mistakes just show how human we all are. But I suppose when we do make one, we should try to correct it (if possible) and go on with living life.

My mother was a master at hiding mistakes. Her theory was that mistakes are made so lessons can be learned.

Most of the lessons I have learned from my mistakes when I was a girl came from the University of Hard Knocks. I recall one such lesson when I was sent to clean up the kitchen. I decided before cleaning it up I would make something so wonderfully delicious that my parents would rave about how fantastic it was.

My plan was to take the large 10-pound bag of flour out of the cabinet and quietly begin creating this spectacular dish.

However, my plan went awry when the bag slipped out of my hands and landed in the middle of the floor, causing it to break open and send flour all over me, the entire kitchen floor, countertops, window sills, curtains, and the stove.

Mom called out to me to make sure everything was all right. “Oh, yes,” I lied, “I’m just cleaning the kitchen.” Hoping she wouldn’t open the door and see the mess I just created. But, she did open the door and as the old adage goes, “the fat was in the fire.”

My first mistake was to decide that I needed to make something wonderful and not do the chore I was sent to do.

The second mistake was trying to cover up the first mistake. That added up to two hard knocks toward my degree.

I learned a valuable lesson that day. Don’t ever try to fool your mother. It’s a no-win situation.

Mothers have powers like no other force in the universe. It’s one of those things a woman has that lies dormant until she has children. Mothers have been known to move such things as heaven and Earth and do so at the same time.

June 28, 1909 a baby girl was born in the small community of Greenwood, Ark. Her parents, Andrew Jackson and Sylvana Sides Boone named her Ima Jean. Her mother passed away when Ima Jean was 6 years old.

That’s when she taught herself to sew clothes for her two older brothers, her dad and herself. She also scrubbed their pine floors, using a mop she made from corn husks.

I remember how she loved her morning coffee. She had a habit of pouring it in the saucer to cool before pouring it back in the cup to drink it. That’s what Southern folks call “saucering” your coffee.

I wish I could still share some of my life’s moments with her, but somehow I think she probably already knows about them. It’s those uncanny powers mothers possess — even after they are gone.

On Saturday, June 28, I will “saucer” my cup of coffee in memory of a special mother who is too long gone, but not forgotten.

Mom, I’m still learning some hard lessons and I still miss you.

Email Betty Heath at begeheath690@aol.com.