My mom passed away on my birthday, March 7th 2014. Those are hard words to type and even harder to say. She would have been 88 in May. Born in Dallas, she was a Texan through and through. She was a tomboy who knew how to be a lady. She was a lady who knew how to kick off her shoes and look for adventure. She was part of the pioneering team that sent men to the moon and was forever irritated at the Nation’s wandering focus on Space. She was a legal administrator without equal.
But most of all she was a Mom. She was a Mom when it was easy and fun, and she was a Mom when it was hard and painful. She picked up after me when I didn’t know better and even when I did. She taught me to appreciate — art, music, nature, beauty… She embraced my fiancee/wife and called her daughter, not “in law,” daughter.
Her life was beset by health issues, and we almost lost her when I was in college. Like that drum banging bunny, she just kept on. For determination, I can’t think of an equal. She left a gap which cannot be filled. It cannot be mended. It can only be patched, patched with memories. Good memories. The shiny ones that gleam with humor and love. Those shiny patches will bring smiles when we think of her and chase tears away as unwelcome showers. My Mom sang semi-professionally and loved performing in Gilbert and Sullivan and Broadway musicals. Her favorite was “My Fair Lady.” How appropriate.