The whole world, 2017
As far as I know, this is the only photo of Mama with me as a baby, taken early 1957.
“If the whole world were put into one scale, and my mother in the other, the whole world would kick the beam.” — Henry Bickersteth, Lord Langdale
(2024 update: this is the 2017 revision of a post that will had appeared here twice before. I hope the text is as timeless as my enduring gratitude for the world’s most singular mother.)
Hello friends,
Thank you so much for your kind and encouraging comments. I have appreciated each one, and will respond as soon as I am able.
I wrote the post below for Mother’s Day four years ago, and I now re-post it in memory of my amazing Mama, who died yesterday. She lived only 20 months without Daddy, the love of her life, her husband of 66 years, and (during his final years) her constant caretaker. The relatively short time she lived without him was filled with suffering and heartbreak for her, but she held fast to her determined faith and indomitable spirit. Again and again, she expressed gratitude for the abundant blessings of her life, and reminded me continually that even in loss, we have reasons to give thanks. Up to the evening before Jeff’s passing, and well beyond that, she filled my life with her strength, courage, and refusal to give in to despair.
Seth, Mama, Jeff, Matt and me on September 13, 2016.
Ten days later, Jeff entered the hospital, never to return home again.
Jeff and my mother were so alike that losing her so soon after Jeff’s death resonates with the deep sadness that an abandoned child must feel. Now I carry on without the three steadfast and stalwart pillars of my life: Daddy, Mama, Jeff. No other person will ever love me as they did. None can equal their devotion, faith and diligence. No light will shine more brightly than that of their shared legacy, which marks the way ahead for me. Thanks for being with me through all this, and for caring!
The following post was first published on May 12, 2013:
Even after I became a mother, I have never liked Mother’s Day. It seems to me an artificially contrived and ultimately inadequate invention designed primarily to sell cards and flowers, and in some cases, to assuage an adult child’s guilty conscience. Nonetheless, I do find myself thinking of my own mother each year on this day, and feeling at a loss for words to describe what her presence has meant in my life.
Perhaps I dislike Mother’s Day mostly because none of the sentimental, flowery tributes commonly sold at this time of year ever seemed an appropriate homage to my mother, who was and is a formidable woman. Her blunt practicality and unfailing generosity are equal to her iron will and undaunted courage in the face of adversity. She has never been the longsuffering, quiet, kind and gentle saint portrayed by so many of the maudlin descriptions of motherhood. More than anyone I know, she embodies the truth that tough love is, in many cases, the most beneficial sort.
Yet just when she seems most intimidating, a whimsical humor will break through and leave us laughing. She is still the one I run to when hit with unexpected sorrow or hardship. Somehow, nothing seems quite as impossible after I’ve talked to Mom about it. She’s been through more than most of us can imagine, but always managed to outpace almost anyone I knew.
She survived poverty and polio as a very young child, and has lived almost her entire life with only one “good” leg, but she never allowed that to slow her down. She had four children in four different states within a period of ten years, my father’s career having demanded frequent moves. When she was nearly killed by a drunk driver going 70 mph who rammed into the driver’s door of her car, no one knew if she could ever fully recover, but she soon was back to her unrelentingly busy schedule, caring for her children and working on various church and community efforts.
Years later, when she faced brain surgery for a hemorrhaging aneurysm shortly before our wedding in 1980, she stayed true to form, stoic in the knowledge that she might not survive. Showing no fear and little emotion of any kind, she reminded us that no matter what happened, we all should feel grateful that she had lived through the car crash and was able to care for us until we were all grown. For as long as I can remember, she has given us a nearly flawless example of what it means to live in faith and trust that God will do what is best. I know that example will be with me always.
So, with all due respect to those who celebrate this day, to the preachers who will preach their yearly sermon about mothers, and the restaurants that will be filled to overflowing, and the many fitting tributes of love and appreciation that will be shown today, let’s all admit that no day could ever be long enough, no tribute strong enough, to capture the gratitude so many of us feel for the amazing gifts our mothers have given us. Happy Mother’s Day to all!
This post was first published seven years ago. The original post, comments and photo are linked, along with two other related posts, below. These links to related posts, and their thumbnail photos, do not appear in the blog feed; they are only visible when viewing the individual posts by clicking on each one. I have no idea why, nor do I know how they choose the related posts. That’s just the way WordPress does things.
- Posted in: Uncategorized
- Tagged: appreciation, faith, gratitude, love, memories, mother, Mother's Day, parents, thanks
Defeat Despair 
Wonderful tribute. I heard a mother’s day sermon in which was said in part,” we honor our mother’s by using the skills they taught us.” I have tried to do that. Mom was a wonderful cook and though my generation generally kept the boys out of the kitchen, which i have never understood as my Italian grandfather Mario was a top level chef at a major hotel in Portland- the Multnomah, I have endeavored to keep-“cooking with gas.”
Oh well. I have tried to learn some cooking kinds of things- especially now as Verie’s “memory ” is fading some. Soon – I fear- i will be doing most of the cooking here. My mom also had a great -though sometimes bawdy- sense of humor. She battled addiction issues and a family history of mental illness- but was a great mom anyway.
Not sure i understand the quote -quite yet.
Hi Mike, I enjoyed reading about your mother, and especially I appreciate that you could see her goodness in spite of her challenges. It seems so stylish these days to yammer on and on about one’s parents and how many things they did wrong. As your quote demonstrates, most do more things right than they do things wrong. We’re all alive here today because of them.
The quote means (at least in my opinion) is that Lord Langdale viewed his mother as the strongest and most consequential person on earth. See: https://en.wiktionary.org/wiki/kick_the_beam
And your mom was a, ” steel magnolia” kind of girl. You can also plainly see from the photo she was a, “looker.” And do we hold fast in the X hope that we will somehow, someday, somewhere be reunited with our loved ones through time and place?
I certainly hold fast to that hope. And yes, my mother was quite a beautiful woman, and as a child, I often heard her described as such by men and women alike. She was a talented seamstress who made her own clothes (and those worn by her two daughters) which had the benefit of custom fit designs. And at 5’8″ she was taller than most women of her generation, with a tiny waist and perfect weight. But not to romanticize her too much, my favorite way to describe her, which I’ve used more than once, is: “Imagine someone who looks like Grace Kelly and acts like Granny Clampett.” Never a dull moment in our home, that’s for sure.
Good morning, Julia! I love this tribute to your mom, and I love that you wrote the original while she was still alive and able to read it.
Blessings on you, this Mother’s Day!
Thank you, Susan. My mother didn’t use a computer but I’m sure my Daddy read it to her, and many of her extended family agreed with my description.