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Top 10 things about my Mom:
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Faith. I have called her the true believer so many times, and that is what she is. Mom was, in her day, a powerful alto singer. She had that Adelle quality voice before there was an Adelle. A few songs I cannot hear without hearing my Mom sing them. One of those has this chorus, But I know whom I have believed and am persuaded that He is able to keep that which I’ve committed unto Him against that day! If that sounds like a Bible verse, it is. 2 Timothy 1:12 – Paul’s reassurance and affirmation for one of his proteges.
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Strength. She was 47 when she was widowed and left with little in the bank, few resources, and an uncertain future. Still, she was the rock the rest of us leaned against. About a decade after Dad passed, I saw my Mom cry for one of the few times in my life. She was at our house for the holidays when she slipped and fell in the kitchen. I was in my study. I heard the gasps and commotion and ran to her aid. I helped her into a sitting position and began to try and assess the damage. She was not hurt badly. But she wept. It was heart-wrenching to hold her as she cried and cried. It was unsettling, too, because my Mom does not cry. I felt the weight of the burden she bore. I felt the vulnerability she felt, the loneliness, the loss of her rock, her shoulder to lean on. And, later, I wept. But I do that sort of thing way more than her.
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Beauty. Clearly, I get my stunning good looks from her. Her beauty was natural, understated, and never anything she flaunted or thought herself special for. But she was the hot commodity in her high school. She passed those good looks on to all the kids except my poor brother, Don. (I only said that because if Don was writing this article, he would say it about me. So, this is me getting even before there is anything to get even for.)
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Protective nature. Mess with the cubs and meet Mama bear. Mom never went around looking for conflict, but you better not either, if you intend it for one of her progeny.
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Steadfast support. Mom is unwavering in her support of her family and every member of it, even the f***-ups. Especially them.
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Laughter. Mom is pretty stoic. She is quiet. She will not carry the conversation. But she will engage. And if you get her tickled, there is nothing better in this world than to laugh with Mom.
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Resilience. Mom never had much. She and Dad, and then she alone, fought and worked for everything they had. They had some really good times and some incredibly hard times. She was the same in both. Steadfast.
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Loyalty. More than a few times, in the pursuit of a dream, Mom and Dad found themselves starting over in someplace new with new faces around them and nothing but hard work ahead of them. Mom never complained. Never. Complained. Live in an RV for a while? OK. Off to Winona, Mississippi, or Shreveport, Louisiana? Sure! What about Mineral Wells, Strawn, Fort Worth, Eastland, Stephenville, Rockwall, and Mount Pleasant? Mom was that “where you go, I will go, your people will be my people, and your God my God’s kind of wife.
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Champion of the Underdog. Mom loves the underdog, always. Some kid with no real parental guidance comes along and Mom will be her Mom. She managed a Burger King for a few years because in Mt. Pleasant, Texas, you take what you can get and you do it. Those kids who worked there leaned on her like a surrogate mother and she treated them just that way, nurturing, training, supporting, and believing. In the convalescent home where she is living out her life, she has been a magnet for the forgotten and lonely souls who have no one to visit them, no one to love them or miss them. I was visiting with Mom at the domino table back when she could get around and when she was not in the throes of dementia. A woman at the table burst out crying, saying that she missed her mother. The crying lady was Mom’s age. That didn’t prevent Mom from being Mom to her just then. Mom held her and stroked her hair and said, I will be your mother. We’ll be each other’s mom. It happened to be Mother’s Day.
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She’s my Mom. I did not get to choose her. She was chosen for me by God and I am forever blessed, forever grateful. I will rise up whenever and wherever I can, rise up, and call her blessed.
Because of her, I, too, can sing that song I wish I could hear her sing one more time…
“I know not why God’s wondrous grace
To me He hath made known,
Nor why, unworthy, Christ in love
Redeemed me for His own.
Refrain:
But I know Whom I have believed,
And am persuaded that He is able
To keep that which I’ve committed
Unto Him against that day.
I know not how this saving faith
To me He did impart,
Nor how believing in His Word
Wrought peace within my heart.
I know not how the Spirit moves,
Convincing men of sin,
Revealing Jesus through the Word,
Creating faith in Him.
Refrain:
But I know Whom I have believed,
And am persuaded that He is able
To keep that which I’ve committed
Unto Him against that day.
I know not what of good or ill
May be reserved for me,
Of weary ways or golden days,
Before His face I see.
Refrain:
But I know Whom I have believed,
And am persuaded that He is able
To keep that which I’ve committed
Unto Him against that day.
I know not when my Lord may come,
At night or noonday fair,
Nor if I walk the vale with Him,
Or meet Him in the air.
Refrain:
But I know Whom I have believed,
And am persuaded that He is able
To keep that which I’ve committed
Unto Him against that day.”
Happy 79th birthday, Mom!
