Mom

I could write in detail about how special a person my mom was, and try to describe what a big loss her passing is to me personally. But you would expect a son who was close to his mother to write such things. For those who didn’t know mom, I don’t know what reading that would do for you. Those who did know Dortha understand. Many have sent or given their condolences in person, and to all who have I’ll say those kind words are appreciated more than you know, and I thank you. (And thank you Mike, for driving the distance to attend mom’s funeral, and for sharing your Aunt Priend memories here.)

I don’t see much point in writing about my emotions of the last six or seven weeks. My grieving process is hard to describe and changes from hour to hour, week to week. I will say that I’ve had to allow myself some grace to understand that I’m “not doing this wrong”; and though mom meant so much to me and I miss her greatly, it’s okay that I’ve already had a “good” day or two. I think she would like that. We Christians speak of "...the peace of God, which surpasses all understanding..." (Philippians 4:7, NKJV). I think I've noticed that a time or two lately.

Other than one piece of advice (tell your loved ones often that you love them - I’m glad I did; and if you feel you ought to have a heart-to-heart talk about anything, don’t delay – I’m so glad I didn’t put that off), I’d like to relate a few memories that have come to mind.

Mom loved to play the piano, and I have many good memories of sitting down in the living room to listen to a “concert”. I know my sister Connie also has those memories, and she has inherited more of the musical talent and knowledge from mom than I did.

For years – decades – I’ve wanted to record mom’s piano playing, but mom never liked that idea. I guess she thought that only professionals should have their music recorded, and she didn’t think hers quite rated that treatment. I’ve always thought her piano playing was great, certainly enough so for me to capture it on my tape recorder for my own enjoyment (and actually, I did sneak in one tape, hiding the recorder at a distance…and as I thought of doing that often, there might be others. A search may turn up more).

Anyway, I know I don’t have a quality recording of her music, which is kind of sad. There was one song in particular that mom almost always played first. I don’t know its name, but I think I asked her once if it was her favorite. If I recall right she said she liked to play that one first to warm up.

Every since mom passed away, that song has been in my head. Note for note, just the way our piano sounds, and just the way she played it. This is a comfort to me, knowing that I’ll not forget the music mom made and loved.

My dad has also been much in my thoughts lately; he left us back in 1990. One memory in particular came to mind, a unique moment in my family which never repeated. I don’t recall who suggested the idea, but I bet it was mom; anyway, dad and I agreed. This was during one Christmas season, probably in the late 1960’s. We decided the three of us would play a Christmas carol or two. This was back when dad and I still had some limited proficiency reading sheet music, so we got out our music stands. I put my clarinet together and dad got his saxophone out of its case, and mom was at the piano. I’m not sure which carol or carols we played, but it must have been something both dad and I had sheet music for.

With mom’s coaching and encouragement we practiced a bit, then put together a fairly good, though brief performance for ourselves; truly a fun time. I’ll probably think of more family moments to relate here later, but that one was unique in kind.

If I could talk face to face right now mom, I’d thank you for making me a much richer person. Like most “baby boomers”, I no doubt would have listened to top 40 rock and roll radio anyway. But you gave Connie and me an appreciation for a wider variety of music, and I have an admiration for the talent some people have who sing well or play an instrument well. Likewise, I was one of those kids who always liked to draw. But you took me to painting lessons, and encouraged me later as I got ready for the couple of art shows I entered side by side with you and my new artistic bride. How would that have been, without your sharing your love of the arts?

I’ll miss our visits on the telephone and in person your smiles, laughter and hugs. Our family will still have game night from time to time and we’ll get out the cards, only you won’t be there.

I'd give anything to hear the old stories again, and I’ll try to remember everything as best as I can.

I’m thankful for all the good times, and I’m glad we stayed close enough that you were a part of my children’s lives, and that you got to know my granddaughter, though briefly.

Mom, I love you. I’m glad I told you that before, and it’s still true. I pray that God will keep me in the faith as I walk through my life, and I look forward to our reunion in heaven.

Well, that may not have been eloquent, but it helped me to write it.