Mother

When I was little I called her mommy. When I got older I skipped mom or momma and went straight to Mother while my dad always remained Daddy. My mother was someone who had faced a lot of hardships as a child and managed to come through seeing good despite seeing so much in her young years. She was an orphan losing both parents years apart and was shipped around among relatives during the Depression, when no one could afford or wanted an extra mouth to feed. That in and of itself would have been enough to make someone perhaps take a different path in life, but not her. She stayed on the straight and narrow.

I can remember when I was doing my first cheerleader tryouts how she would show me the ones that she did when she was a cheerleader for her small town's basketball team. Yep, basketball. The town was so small they didn't have enough kids to play football. Sounds so very unTexan. I remember while I was practicing, she broke into "Strawberry Shortcake Banana Cream Pie V-I-C-T-O-R-Y. I'm sure that rallied a lot of victories! I remember us both laughing. Needless to say, I didn't steal that jewel for my tryout...but I do remember how she celebrated when I made the team. She always celebrated with me no matter the accomplishment.

I remember her waiting up for me on those High School Friday and Saturday nights of fun. The hug and kiss before she went off to bed was actually a sniff test to see if I smelled of beer or cigarettes....I failed....a lot. I remember her mumbling I was my "Father's child" as my mom never smoked or drank. At all. Period.

My mom didn't care anything about cars other than the fact that it ran and had gas. My dad on the other hand was a huge car guy. She often dreaded when he drove off in her car because it usually meant he was coming home with a new car. She didn't care about flashy things. Her wants were simply to give her children the best stable homelife possible, the very thing she never had....I can remember being 15 with a learner's permit driving a Lincoln Town Car that was the size of Rhode Island into San Antonio....she didn't like "traffic"....so she trusted me, and it was really fine because I had been driving trucks on and around our farm since I was about eleven...looking back though I am just so amazed how much she trusted me...it makes me laugh in this moment.

She was a woman of faith. (Might explain making me the designated driver - perhaps a leap of faith...lol). She believed in being positive, encouraging and throughout her day showed integrity in all that she did. She instilled in us that we were only as good as our word and that we should exhibit kindness to all we encountered. I remember when she passed, I just had to see her handwriting...I opened her Bible and read her worn pages filled with notes and papers with prayers written on them tucked between the pages. It was just a comfort to me. She lived by faith and she taught me the importance of faith in my life. I am so grateful for that fact.

There are so many wonderful memories and moments of my life growing up with this precious woman as my mom. I was blessed and I miss her badly. I often think what she would think about the world today. I miss her scent; I miss her smile; I miss her kiss and embrace. A mother's love is timeless...and despite the separation from this world and when one goes home - it is ever present and always felt...