A Brief Tribute To My Mother,
And To All Those Like Her Everywhere
If you would, please indulge me in a bit of personal reflection. As I write this, just a few days before Mothers’ Day 2009, my own mother is a new resident in a nursing home near “the old home place” back in West Virginia.
She lived in the house she and Dad built for us back in 1963-64, until her poor health and failing mentality dictated that that arrangement would no longer be safe for her. It is difficult to be forced into making decisions for a parent who previously was so capable of making her own. Thankfully, she and Dad raised four children, instilling in them whatever values it takes to make it second nature for us to love one another and to honor them. I say that to say that it was a decision we agonized over but then made together.
Dad died back in March of 1970 and the last of us kids left home in 1974, so Mom has been “on her own” for the last 35 years. She could have remarried, and had plenty of would-be suitors, but remained unmarried. One reason was that she said that she could never find another one like Daddy. But her other reason was that she feared that any man she married might somehow interfere with her being with her children when and where she wanted to. So she lived alone all these past years, in large part so she could be with her children and grandchildren any time the opportunity presented itself.
It fell to the four of us kids (I say kids, but I’m the youngest at 52) to decide what to do with her estate (that‘s what you call it, no matter how humble it is). As we went through niches and cubbies, finding old photographs and such, we were reminded of what a strong, intelligent and vibrant woman our mother once was. So often when you look at one who has grown older, you forget that they have not always been that way.
It was impressed on me once again, that our mother was once young and beautiful with all of her life ahead of her. What did she do with her life? The old photos tell the story. She gave her life to the Lord, to Dad, and to us. We have a million memories of special treats she would bake, feast-like meals she would prepare, good times at holidays and while traveling all over the country or receiving guests to stay with us. Birthdays were special, as were any good grades on report cards and the masterpieces we would bring home from school. I remember that Mom kept her house spotless, yet never seemed to expect that of others. She kept us well dressed and groomed, but made it clear that making fun of any who weren’t would not be tolerated. She took us with her to church whenever the doors were opened, but I never heard a self-righteous word from her concerning others who never darkened those same doors.
She never got past the 8th grade, yet gave us an education that all the scholarship money in the world could never buy in any of the great universities. She taught us the value of hard work and humility, of faith and generosity, of kindness and respect for others that in turn allows you to have respect for yourself.
What more can I say in such a brief space? So much changed when Dad died. Life without him, even after 39 years, has not been the same. But I know that when Mom is gone, everything will change. We will sell the old house, but that will be ok. Without Mom there, it really isn’t home anymore anyway.
If you are one of the fortunate ones to still have your mother in mind and body, thank God, and then go show that woman who gave you life how much you love her.
Marty Kessler