My Blog

My Mom 

May 13, 2007

My dad was a great guy. Why do I start a blog about my mom with a statement about my dad? Because I believe that the man my dad became – the one we all admired – he became, in part, due to my mom’s faithful encouragement, guidance, widsom and her abounding love. I think my dad would agree with that. She saw the best in him, and he rose to be the man she believed him to be.

And so it was with me. My mom was a powerful influence on my life. When she was on her deathbed on 1990, I sat next to her and told her all the things she had taught me. I share some of them with you today.

She taught me to care for others. My mom was selfless in her care and concern for other people. When I was little, I remember many meals being made for friends who were ill, or babysitting to help out, or cleaning other people’s houses when they were not able. When the call came that someone needed help, my mom and my grandmother were right there – always. They never said, “Just isn’t a convenient time for us to help.”

She taught me how to keep house. This may seem like a small thing, but I don’t think so. She kept our home clean and tidy without being compulsive about it. She baked with me, cleaned with me (”No matter how poor you are, soap is cheap, Ellen.”) And I grew to love a clean, orderly house yet one that is welcoming to people.

She taught me how to be a good friend. Hers was a self-sacrificing love and she gave for her friends without counting the cost. One thing I can say about my mom in all her relationships is that she didn’t keep a balance sheet of what she did for others versus what they did for her. I learned that a good friendship doesn’t count the cost.

She taught me how to laugh. She really did love life and found the humor in it, too. I remember her laugh. She was always expecting that God would fill her life with good things, and she was a happy person. I think the optimisim with which I usually face life, I got from her. And that has been a blessing in my life beyond measure.

She taught me how to love my husband. My parents shared a special love until the day my mom died. After 40 years of marriage, they were as in love- actually more in love – than when they first met. They were thankful for the love God had given them, and they didn’t waste it. My mom was loyal to my dad. She thought he was terrific, and he knew it. Her love was a powerful force in his life. I’ve rarely seen a deeper love between two people. And I think I learned from that without being told that you love your husband and you walk through the bad times together. No one ever doubted her love for my dad. I hope I am loving my husband half as well as she loved my dad.

She taught me how to be a mom. Of course, no one mothers perfectly, but my mom gave us children a sense of security and love that most kids do not have. Throughout my life (even in adulthood), we never doubted her love for us. When I was little, she was very involved in our school – she was the “stamp mom,” the “milk mom,” the “room mom,” and the mom who always went on field trips with us. Always there. Always taking care of us. Always loving us.

She taught me how to die. Sounds funny, but I never admired my mom more than when she was dying. Her faith was so strong that, although she was loathe to leave my dad and her family, she knew – and I mean she knew – she was going to heaven. She died with dignity, without fear, and still showing concern and love for her family and friends.

Was my mom perfect? Far from it. If I’ve made her sound that way, I have not painted a proper picture. But, for all her flaws (and we all have them), she was everything I have said she was. On this Mother’s Day, I honor her with my words, with my love and, in many areas, I honor her by emulating the example she was to me.

Florida – and My Dad!

May 7, 2007 – Florida can be hot, muggy, crowded and over-rated. But, on a week like last week, when it is warm, sunny, breezy, beautiful and uncrowded, it’s a great place to be.

I found myself spending a week in familiar Florida but with a new appreciation for its beauty. My father was a Floridian, born and bred, who left Florida during the depression. He came from a large family of commercial fishermen and lived in a tiny fishing village called Cortez, just outside of Bradenton. During the depression, he headed up north to see if he could find work, and he did. He also married, had four children and ended up an “economic slave.” That is, he wanted desperately to return to Florida but was stuck in New Jersey for economic reasons. (“I have a job here. I am building a retirement. I have to feed my family.”) And so he stayed in NJ for 30 years.

When the factory in which he worked closed in 1973, he was just 56 and was able to get full retirement benefits. So, off to Florida he and my mom went, and he bought a house just two blocks away from the house in which he was born. He returned to commercial fishing and had 20 more years to enjoy the waters he loved so much.

Today, when I visit the area around Tampa Bay, all I can think of is my dad and how he loved to fish those waters. When he was a child, NO ONE except a recluse or two lived on Longboat Key. There was no bridge there and only brave souls even ventured to the keys outside Bradenton and Sarasota. My dad was filled with stories of the sea, like the time he jumped overboard and stepped right on a stingray, which proceeded to lash his leg. He could recognize every fish in those waters, and he was always most at home on a boat.

One of the best memories I have of my dad is from my childhood – sitting on his shoulders as he walked with me into the water to swim. To me, he was the strongest, safest, tallest, most handsome, and most loving father anyone could have.

Last week, I spent time in that area again. The weather was wonderful, and it was Florida at its best. I got to sightsee a little, relax on the beach with my husband, spend a couple of days in a swanky resort, and enjoy the sunshine. But, the best part about visiting Florida is always the feeling I get – the feeling of being close to my dad once again, at least in spirit.

Yes, Florida can be a great place to be.