A Tribute To My Mom

She noticed things…

The sun on the day I was born

My hazy eyes on days I was coming down with something

A sad face when life had dealt me a blow

One day I was home sick (not very) and accidentally swallowed a straight pin. Mom got really worried and tried to get me to throw up by making me drink an entire glass of mustard water. When that didn’t help she started stuffing me full of mashed potatoes and bread. I don’t think that really worked either – but so far no punctures. She was really worried but I wasn’t.

Mom wasn’t overly opinionated but she had a few things she felt strongly about:

Rain and thunderstorms could be wonderful

Soft drinks were way too sugary

Homemade ice cream should never have flavors added – or the richness of the ingredients couldn’t be appreciated

It was against her rules to say HATE, STUPID or I CAN’T.

Every person on earth deserved an equal chance at love. Everyone.

I remember colors…

Mom liked grey long before it became trendy. And grey plaid – that was the BEST.

She LOVED red hair. Curly red hair was extra especially nice. Of course none of us kids came close on either account – and we all felt sad and glad about this.

She hated the colors of our living room on Evening St.: gold and green with light blue. I don’t blame her.

When we were teenagers my mom gave Tamie and I paregoric for our cramps. She didn’t seem to notice or mind that it was a narcotic. She just didn’t want us to suffer. She let us sunbathe on the roof and mess up the kitchen with our cooking and sewing projects. She loved playing her record albums…George Beverly Shea, Tennessee Ernie Ford and most of all: Jimmy Dean. We knew all the words too.

She also pierced our ears when it became fashionable. Not that she was so great a such things, just that she wasn’t about to fork over $10 to Claire’s for what a needle, some alcohol and an orange could do. And yes, it hurt.

She also got us to make out own clothes, cut and perm our hair and make our own culinary delights. I was well into adulthood before it hit me that EVERYONE didn’t do these things.

While we were growing up she loved all her five children very very much but we always suspected Mark to be the favorite. We girls hated this until we had sons of our own. Then we could halfway understand.

She loved all her grandchildren, yet always had a very special place in her heart for the ones who were going through tough times. She prayed hard for them – worried for them – and kept them close to her heart.

Sometimes Mom would say things that got me through tough times.  In 1989 when we had to sell the dream home Clark and I had built ourselves on the Pennsylvania mountainside I remember being fairly inconsolable, until over the phone mom confidently said “honey, you built a house one time, you can do it again.” And we did.

When other moms shipped out, my mom shaped up. She seemed to have a way with teenagers and many of my friends liked to talk to her and even called her “Mom”-which brings me to Clark.

When I first introduced them she remarked how much he looked like Jesus. On the surface that would seem great until C and I had our first disagreement. Who can win a fight with Jesus? I could never get any sympathy from her again.

When Mom first started falling, my pastor – and boss – Mike, liked to tease her, saying she drank too much. Of course nothing could’ve been further from the truth which is why it was kind of funny.

Once when I was about 12 I asked my mom why my friends’ families had it so good and our family had so much pain. She explained that if you have challenges when you’re young, that you wouldn’t so much when you grow up – and visa versa… in other words “those happy friends will have their day.” She told me this like it was some sort of law of the universe. Of course it was completely untrue but it made me feel a lot better to think I could be getting the hard part over with early. To this day i like saving the best for last.

There are many things my mom taught me – and probably many she left out, but she was in the end MY mom. I loved her a lot and still do. I already miss her very much, and hope that I can pass on to the younger people in my life the gift of love and acceptance I experienced through my mom.