Last Sunday I shared that I learned early that morning my mom died. She was 91. It was a little tough to turn my attention to the job at hand (preaching a sermon!), but the reason it wasn’t a lot tough is because I was ready for her departure. Her dementia and frail condition made living a chore, and that’s not to mention my sister’s wear and tear as the primary caregiver. Yet the challenges of her last days don’t in any way diminish the lasting quality of all her days. My mom was a wonderful woman.
She was born in Mishawaka (yes, Indiana), September 7, 1932. She was the middle of three children. Her dad was an electrician and her mother a farm girl from Alabama. Before she was two her family moved near the Hamilton, Ohio area. My mom said when she was just three when she knew she wanted to become a nurse. She somehow got inspired by the example of women who cared for people in suffering and knew that’s what she wanted to do with her life. And she did.
After high school she attended the Cincinnati School of Nursing. Somewhere around the time of her graduation and internship, she met my dad. They married in 1957 and settled in Winston-Salem, NC. My dad worked for Piedmont Airlines (based in Greensboro) before becoming a life insurance agent. My mom went to work for the Forsyth County Hospital in nursery care and found her deep love: taking care of babies. After receiving advanced training, she moved into the neo-natal care unit.
I remember going by the hospital to see my mom when I was in high school. I was able to get to the door of her area and saw through the window this woman in full scrubs and mask punching buttons on a highly complex computer system. I thought, “Wow, my mom is really smart!”
My mom was a lot more than that.
She was a good cook. Back in the day when a family of five couldn’t afford to eat out she would come home after a full day of work and start dinner for the family. And because my parents didn’t have what you would call ‘spare income,’ she learned to sew, repairing most of our clothes to make them last as long as possible, even making outfits for us. She also learned to cut hair to save that expense. I was 19 years old before I ever went to a barber. I remember the first time a barber asked, “So how would you like it cut?” I said, “I don’t know, just cut it like mom does.”
But mom had even better qualities.
She was crazy funny! Someone asked me last Sunday what was my favorite attribute about my mom? I said, “her jokes.” The person said, “So give me a mom joke.” I said, “I can’t...not in church!” She had what she called “hospital humor.” I can’t think of one joke my mom told I could use in a sermon, but I still laugh, not just thinking of her jokes, but her telling them!
But don’t think my mom lacked scruples. She had very high standards. One time when I was a tot, she wouldn’t buy the chewing gum I wanted at the grocery store, so I took it. (I didn’t really understand stealing). In the car on the way home, I flashed it at her and said, “Ha, ha, ha!” Of course, as the old saying goes, “He who laughs first...”
My mom did a 180 in the car like a Starsky and Hutch. She drove back into the parking lot of the grocery store, and I felt a soreness in my stomach. She took me firmly by the hand, chewing gum pack in it, and called for the manager. She explained to him that her son “stole” this and was here to return it, looked at me and said, “What do you say?” I mumbled “I’m sorry.” The manager (I’m sure he winked at my mom) gave me a lecture on the evils of thievery and let me off with a warning.
But truly my mom was a woman of deep faith. In her later years in life, she became very active in her Methodist Church. She led their mission council for years, passionate about helping the suffering in the community. She believed in crossing barriers of racism and prejudice. She also taught a senior Sunday school class for several years leading up to the pandemic. When she took over, she started using video curriculums. Some members complained, saying they didn’t like the videos. They wanted to use the old materials. Mom said, “I understand. That’s fine. But we will need to find a new teacher.” The class rescinded the vote and asked mom to keep using the videos.
Mom could practice tough love, but she had a tender heart. Before dementia stole her memory and much of her personality, I remember a woman who was unpretentious, strong, faithful, funny, and loving. We will gather in NC for Thanksgiving and next Saturday have a service with our family.
Thanksgiving. There couldn’t be a better time to celebrate her life. I love you mom.