05.10.10
Mother’s Day, a day late.
I’m sitting here feeling like I got hit by a truck today;
probably a sinus infection. It seems as if every bone
behind my face is hurting, along with most of my teeth!
Nasty stuff. Yesterday was a big day…up at 4 am, left
for Charlotte by 4:50, and got back home here about
12 hours later. It was Mother’s Day, and a somewhat
different one for me these days, as Dawna decided
to stay and spend the day with her new daughter -
the one she never had - my daughter, Shannon.
Driving up and back from Charlotte, I spent a lot of
the time in thought about the mothers in my life.
Carol was the mother of our three children, and it
always hits me that the ripples cast by a mothers
death go out a very long way, and for a long time.
It’s probably safe to say that they’ll never fully get
over their loss. And, it’s understandable. When our
kids were growing up, what I was called to do called
me away from them a lot. Carol was their main care
giver. You can’t keep from missing that.
Dawna’s a wonderful Mom. So non-judgmental, caring,
loving, nurturing. She aches inside, missing her boys.
Yesterday was very hard on her, being away from them.
She also misses her Mom so much, and especially as her
mom has recently had a knee replacement, and is
struggling after the surgery. Maybe it was selfish, but
I was thrilled that she and Shannon had a wonderful
day together…both loved it, but undoubtedly, both
must have also felt a sense of loss and hurt as well.
The love of a mother is a special thing indeed. Honestly,
there really is nothing else quite like it.
My little Mom, Jeanette, was born in Somerset, PA in
1915. I can hardly believe that if she hadn’t gone Home
to Heaven in 2003, she’d be 95 now. Her mom lived to
be just weeks shy of 100, so we’d hoped for the same,
but, our hopes didn’t match the Lord’s plans. When she
was a tiny baby, Mom’s parents moved the family back
to a suburb of Glasgow, Scotland, where Mom lived until
she was 9. And then, they moved back to the USA.
Mom was married to a man who everyone always spoke
of in remarkable terms, David Brady. I know they were
deeply in love, but God called him Home when he was
only 26. Mom didn’t talk all that much about her first
husband, but it was obvious that she loved him deeply,
and mourned his untimely passing much.
Years later, still deeply suffering, she met my Dad, who
was four years younger than she was…a source of much
teasing. Well, if you knew my Dad, you’d know that it didn’t
take him very long to find something - anything - to tease
about!
So, my memories were nearly 50 years of an amazing little
lady, and I miss her still. A lot, actually. Mom was an
eternal optimist, a warm, “touchy-feely” person. If she
was talking with you, at least one of her hands would be
touching your hand, arm, shoulder, maybe even your face.
It was just the way she was. She was a hugger too. Their
home was open to all. Only the Lord knows how many
meals were cooked and served in their houses, or how
many weary pilgrims laid their heads down in one of the
bedrooms there. Their legacy is honestly remarkable. But,
Lindsay and I would tell you quickly that there was one
defining moment that would change their lives, but not
their characters.
During Mr. Carter’s Presidency, interest rates climbed to
near-record highs. Dad was a businessman, and a fairly
successful one at that. He either owned or ran three bus-
inesses at once. One of them was a custom home firm.
Dad built large executive homes, and he was a wonderful
and conscientious builder. But, when the prime lending
rate hit 21%, and the most-qualified buyers were staring
at 24% mortgages, something had to give, and it did….
It took two years, but ultimately, Mom and Dad lost a
lifetime of possessions; their huge home, their cars, a
lot of their furniture. (All but three rooms’ worth) We’ll
all likely agree that ladies like and need security, and in
two years, facing their “golden years”, my parents lost
almost everything they owned. And, my brother and I
watched…in horror, even perhaps some fear. And, we
were given life lessons, that “things” are only just that.
That essential core values, beliefs, and character are
what count and remain, even when things disappear.
Only one time did I see my Mom cry over this. Once.
She got a phone call from a friend, who recounted a
conversation with my Mom’s cousin, in which she was
reported to have said “Well, the mighty Parks’ have
fallen! Now they’ll know what it’s like to be poor, and
I’m loving it!” That was the one and only time that we
saw Mom get down in one of life’s great mysteries
and traumas. Since 1982, I’ve never forgotten this.
Mom hated the heat. A redhead, her face would be
crimson when it was hot. Yet, every summer day,
she’d sit under an umbrella while Lin and I got to
swim at a pool. She’d cook and entertain with her
red face, and we’d tease her about it, but she’d
just smile. She was not the least bit afraid of work,
nor the least worried about heat stroke.
Above all, I remember her love, her caring, and an
amazing desire to nurture and train us. So, when
you lose someone like that, you know what it is to
really miss someone.
I miss you, Mom…six years, nearly seven now. I
can’t wait to see you again, “Little Bit.” I miss the
laughter, your twinkling eyes, the way you always
bantered with Dad and laughingly lectured him as
he pretended to cower. Most of all, yeah, I really
do miss your love.
And, tied with that, I miss your phone calls every
night before I’d leave for a trip; you on one phone
and Dad on another. And how before we’d hang
up, you’d always say “Speak and sing well of Him,
dear.”
I’m trying Mom. I really am. I sure do love you
and miss you. Happy Mother’s Day in Heaven…
And the very same to every mom who reads this.
Blessings,
Alan