One of my earliest memories of my mom was when I was around three or four years old. We were living in an old house in West Pratt, just outside the town of Dora.
From a distance the house looked as if were bricked, but upon closer inspection it was asphalt siding made to look like bricks.
There was running water in the kitchen but the bathroom was an outhouse several hundred feet from the house. The washing machine was an old Maytag wringer that sat on the back porch. There was a garden and a few free-range chickens long before they were in vogue.
I had been playing outside all that day and I was covered in dirt. It must have late spring or early summer because I was shirtless but had on a pair of shorts.
Mom had just finished the last load of work clothes; the rinse water was still in the washing machine. She called me to the porch and in a flash she snatched me up and tossed me into the tub of the washing machine that was full of cold water. At first I squealed like a pig but when I got use to the cold water I burst into giggles. Pretty soon she was laughing too. I think I got my sense of humor from my mom.
She did things like that when we were kids, things that took you by surprise, and made you laugh. I can remember her playing football with the grandkids and even mowing grass into her sixties.
She had a strong work ethic, we all did chores when we were little and when we got older, and we got jobs. Mom always insisted that we do a good job, no matter what we did. She would say, “it’s easier to it right the first time than having to go back and lick your calf over.”
She could have written a book based on her ideas about work and doing the job right. She taught me many valuable things, some of them I didn’t appreciate until I got older. She got much wiser, the older I became.
This Sunday is Mother’s Day. Her health is not the best anymore but we will sit on the couch and maybe watch a Braves game and they will be her team whether they win or lose.
I know I will never be able to find the words to say how much I appreciate her sacrifices, her love and the gifts of wisdom she has given me through out my life. I have tried to tell her before but the words always sound hollow and trite.
But those that she never tires of hearing, “I love you Mom” I will always say over and over.
