Memories of Mom

My mother died one year ago today. I miss her. I know that she is in the presence of the Lord, awaiting my arrival, but I miss her presence here.



A few years ago my mother asked me how I was going to remember her. I didn't have a good answer at the time, but I thought about it a lot. One thing that I will remember most is her hands. They were gentle, compassionate, and productive. I can see her now preparing sandwiches for a tea, stitching a quilt, sewing beautiful clothes for my sister and me, and holding and rocking my younger brother when he was sick with asthma. When I called my mother's friend (our minister's wife from 45 years ago) to tell her mother had died, she told me that she still had some things that my mother had made for her and how pecious they were to her. Mother spent a lifetime caring for others. She opened her heart and her hands to those in need.



I will remember my mother's voice. She often told the story about the teacher that told her, "Wanda, just dance, don't sing." From that time on my mother was reluctant to sing when anyone could hear her, but she chose to "make melody in her heart." However, she sang to her children and I can't hear or sing the song, "When He Cometh" without thinking of my mother. And I can hear her singing it in my daughter's ear as she rocked her to sleep.



And lastly, I will remember her "momisms." "You have to suffer to be beautiful." "Beauty is as beauty does." "If you stick that lip out much farther a rooster will perch on it." (I was a pouter!) In recent years we heard some things over and over and over again, like: "Growing old isn't for sissies." "The only thing that runs anymore is my nose." "What is today?"



But the words I will remember most because of the frequency with which she quoted them are found in Proverbs 13:12 "Hope deferred makes the heart sick, but when it is come about, it is as a tree of life." The New Living Translation says it this way: "Hope deferred makes the heart sick, but a dream fulfilled is a tree of life." I don't know why my mother quoted that verse so much, but I do know that in my own life I have needed the hope and the promise of it. And I thank God that mother passed it on to me.



My mother wasn't perfect: she was a flawed child of God, but my brothers and sister and I were blessed to have a "truly good woman" for a mother!



I miss you, Mom!

A Tribute to My Hero

"Call me Ishmael." Perhaps you recognize the opening words from Herman Melville's classic, Moby Dick, but when I hear these words, I don't think of tossing seas, whaling boats, and Captain Ahab! I think of one of the most important men in my life -- my dad. For years, I thought Moby Dick was his favorite novel, only to find out a few months ago that it wasn't! Middlemarch has that distinction! In fact he confessed to me that there were some portions of Moby Dick that he hadn't even read, so I guess I need no longer feel guilty about using Cliff's Notes!

Life with my dad was great! My dad was one of the funniest men I knew. Somehow, whenever I was down, he had a way of bringing a smile to my face and making me laugh again. We sometimes jokingly called our house, "Perry's Nut House" because of some of Dad's crazy antics. It's been said, "one of the best things a man can have up his sleeve is a funny bone." Dad certainly had that! He could see the humorous in any situation. He belonged to the RCA record club for a short time. He kept receiving computerized statements but no lp's. While others may have chosen to phone or write the company with threats or anger, he decided to write a letter that went something like this: "Dear Sirs: I have sent my money. Please send me my records. Please send me my records. Please send me my records. Please send me my records..." I don't remember how the company responded, but I suspect that it brightened someone's day!

I recall a school morning when Dad came to wake me up with a sheet draped around him Statue of Liberty style and a flashlight raised in the air, very dramatically singing "Rise and shine!" What a great way to start the day!

Dad was also clever at making up limericks. I still remember the one he made up for me:

"There was a young girl named Jane;

She slipped when she fell off the train.

"Oh, oh," she cried, "I might have died

for I have injured my brain!"

His students at Fayetteville High School waited each year for him to jump on top of his desk and shout, "Thar she blows!" while pretending to harpoon a whale with a pencil! The truth is, he only did this once, but ask any of his students and they'll tell you about it as if they each saw it happen! A true legend!

Dad chose his epitaph many years ago. He wanted it to read "Hairy Perry -- Worm Meat!"

Somehow I don't think we will be able to fulfill that wish! I choose rather to say, "He was a good man!"

Not only was my father a man with a positive outlook toward life, but he was also one of the best friends I ever had. We used to have such great conversations; I never ceased to learn from him. He was always there for me and I have wonderful memories of him: pimento cheese on anything; Miracle Whip on just about everything; helping me bake my first cake; rolling my hair in pink sponge rollers on Saturday nights; holding me by the hand as we walked home from church on Sunday evenings while he pointed out the constellations. He gave me my first corsage and my first bottle of cologne. He never missed a program or a concert of mine. He was there to encourage me, to congratulate my successes and to bolster me when I failed. A girl couldn't have asked for a better father!

If any one person is responsible for leading me to Christ, he was the one! His example and Biblical teaching influenced me more than any one else. In him I saw the image of Christ. His words to me as I left for Bible college, "Jane, lose your life in Jesus," have remained as a compass throughout my life. I miss his spiritual guidance.

Thoreau said, "A friend is one who incessantly pays us the compliment of expecting from us all the virtues and can appreciate them in us." My father expected the best of me. I hope I never disappointed him. I want to be everything he expected me to be and I know he never expected me to be something that I'm not or cannot be.

In his poem, "Encouraged" Paul Lawrence Dunbar expresses my feelings for my dad:

"Because you love me I have much achieved,

Had you despised me, then I must have failed,

But since I know you trusted and believed,

I could not disappoint you,

so prevailed."

Proverbs 22:1 says, "A good name is more desirable than great riches; to be esteemed is better than silver or gold." I can't think of a more fitting verse for my dad unless it's Psalm 116:15: "Precious in the sight of the Lord is the death of his saints."

Dad, I miss you! (March 24, 2010 - his birthday)

A Thing of Beauty and Joy

In November, we planted a tree in memory of my father. When my husband brought the tree home from the nursery, I was skeptical that it would survive. It appeared to be near death, but he assured me that it would grow and blossom in the Spring. Almost daily I said, "Honey, that tree is dead!" And each time he responded, "I don't think so!" On March 6th, his faith became sight! It bloomed! I couldn't believe it! There were 6 - 8 blossoms on that skinny little "dead" tree! I could draw several spiritual truths from this, of course, but I'll just say that joy filled my heart and tears filled my eyes. My dad would have loved this tree! I recalled an entry in his journal regarding a tree he had planted several years ago: "Yesterday was the day I'd long awaited; it was the apotheosis of my magnolia tree. It has been growing, growing, growing despite the extreme cold of last January and the great number of leaves it lost as an apparent consequence. The first creamy white flower appeared and prepared to open. I don't think that I can verbalize the joy it brought my soul, for I was moved within my spirit to see this beautiful flower at long last make its royal display in its own unhurried, magnificent way. I guess the fact that it brought joy is the reason for my elation. A second bud seems to be following; they should be there from now on and hopefully be there long after I am departed. Perhaps a mockingbird will someday nest in the tree's branches and add the pure joy of natural music to the exquiste loveliness of the blossom through the years." I hope my flowering plum brings as much joy to me and to others who see it as my dad's magnolia tree did to him. "A thing of beauty is a joy forever!"

"For, lo the winter is past,

The rain is over and gone;

The flowers appear on the earth;

The time of the singing of birds is come,

And the voice of the turtle is heard in our land."

The Bible

A Gift to Touch My Heart

Yesterday, I was given the gift of a hyacinth! A real live hyacinth! It's beautiful! The fragrance is lovely! My secret sister gave me a remembrance of my mother and it touched my heart in a special way. Did she know that the color of this hyacinth was my mother's favorite? Did she know the connection I make between hyacinths and my mother? Did she read my blog? I don't know; but I consider it a gift from God and I will cherish it. This delightful gift will go in my garden of memories to enjoy again and again.

"Every good and perfect gift is from above, coming down from the Father of the heavenly lights...." James 1:17

Hands

I was thinking about hands today. More precisely, I was thinking about my mother's hands. They were not beautiful by the world's standards with immaculately kept nails, soft skin, and tapered fingers. Her hands were hard-working and productive and it showed! As a nurse, her hands soothed and ministered to many a sick or dying patient. As a mother, these same hands could be both gentle and firm! When I think back I can almost feel her tender touch on my forehead burning with fever. In my mind's eye I can see her gently patting my infant daughter as she "whispered" her to sleep. They were like the hands of the Proverbs 31 woman: "She selects wool and flax and works with eager hands...she sets about her work vigorously; her arms are strong for the task...She opens her arms to the poor and extends her hands to the needy." I want hands like hers!