Three years ago today, I had to do the hardest thing, ever, in my life...lay my mom to rest, 2 days before mother's day. In thinking of her, I wanted to share the memorial I gave at her funeral:
Over the last few days, I've been trying to think of things I could say about my mom or stories that I could share. What were my favorite memories and how could I put them into words? I was forcing myself to think of something and was encountering a mental block. Then I woke up Sunday morning, Mother's Day, and realized that I had a lot to share about my mom, in the way I knew her best, as my mother.
As a new mother myself, I've looked to my mom as my role model. I've asked myself many times, what made her so successful? Stories and memories flooded my brain. As I put words to paper, I found myself choosing nicknames to describe my mom and the stories involved with each memory. Now, mom had a knack for picking names, which I'll talk a little more about in a minute, and so I guess I've inherited this trait. I just hope she won't be too mad about some of them...
The first memory Tara and I usually end up laughing about centers around mom's role as "The Intimidator." What? Intimidator? Mom was the disciplinarian and dad whole heartedly will give her credit in that department. And to be very honest, as I stand here, I am still a little intimidated calling her the Intimidator. She had a full arsenal of weapons at her disposal and depending on how many she used at one time described the degree of trouble you were in.
The first weapon was the Linda Stomp. You knew you had pushed it too far if you felt the floors shake and heard the thunderous roll of her feet. Tara and I have learned to perfect the Linda Stomp, having seen and heard it many times. We now use it in our own households and tease each other, 'Was that the Linda Stomp I just heard?'
Her next weapon...the wooden spoon. If this was used in combination with the Linda Stomp, oh boy, you were going to get it! It would usually begin with the stomp to the "junk" drawer. Somewhere in the drawer was the wooden spoon and mom would stir and lift and make all kinds of noise before she found it, buying you a few minutes to either begin crying and/or pleading or make a mad dash to try to hide. Funny, hiding never really worked out well for me.
And finally, there was the finger and the look. Even dad has had his fair share of being the target of these two weapons - can we say RV? Even the animals knew. There is no way I could ever do these two weapons justice. Mom just had a way of pointing her finger at you and looking at you that made you start to quiver and fall into line, hence..."The Intimidator."
The finger weapon actually had two purposes and this leads me into another favorite memory and my next nickname, "The Great Tickler." Mom loved to tickle, it didn't matter your age or how you were related to her. As a matter of fact, I just found out last night this even included some of the nurses at the clinic!
You took your legs and ribs at your own risk if you sat too close to her. She had a way with her fingers that seemed to find your weak spot and she took great joy in being able to tickle. One of our favorite pictures of her is with Tyler and Brynn on the front porch swing. Tyler and Brynn are trying desperately between giggles to pry mom's fingers off while mom's face is filled with glee at her successful tickle attack.
In the last three days, the three ring circus has landed in the Barley farmhouse in the form of three dogs. This made me think of another favorite memory and my next nickname..."Dr. Doolittle." Mom just wasn't a mother to Tara and me but she was one to all of the animals as well. All of the many animals we had through the years loved mom and fell at her feet, literally. The cats and dogs seemed to gravitate to her feet and there was many a time she would trip over them in her attempt to either get up from the couch or make dinner.
In the many years there has only ever been one exception to this and it came in the form of Buttons the goat. Buttons appeared one day in the back of dad's little pickup truck as a gag happy 40th birthday gift. Buttons didn't stay forever and there is some controversy over Mom and Buttons, with talk of a butting, mom getting wrapped around the goat's chain, and a possible broken bone. Buttons is just lucky he went to live at another farm and not somewhere else...
So, with that being the only exception, this devotion was maybe due in part to her uncanny ability to name them. Magic, Tara's horse, named so because like Magic he just appeared. I think that was one of the other times Dad got the look and finger. Tilly (short for Chantilly) and Lacey (Lace), our first cats, named so because they were sisters and somehow Chantilly Lace popped into her head.
Yes, they loved their Dr. Doolittle and she them. They would always remember her at Christmas. There was always a present from the animals under the tree...Love Magic, Charlie, Dusty, Tilly, Lacey, Misty, Bailey, Jasmine, and for a short time, Buttons.
I could go on with nicknames, "Master Bargain Shopper," "Queen of Cross Stitch," "Mrs Sports Fanatic," but the best memory I have of Mom is given the nickname "The Prize Fighter." She always encouraged us to be positive and she herself lived by this. Never once did she let life get her down, not when diagnosed with diabetes, not when facing kidney failure and dialysis, not when she had to learn how to walk again with a prosthesis, and especially, not at the end.
As I think about all of the stories and nicknames I lovingly refer to, it hit me that all of the names have something in common. They all sound like superhero names, the Intimidator, The Great Tickler, Dr. Doolittle, The Prize Fighter. And I find it very fitting, because to us, she is our hero, the strongest woman I know. She is our hero and Tara and I were blessed to be able to call her mom.
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