Sheila Sims Iding
Today is my mom’s birthday and that is usually a time to reflect on past memories (aren’t all memories “past”?). Anyway…most daughters on their mother’s birthday, can take much time and reflect on many memories. Me…not so much. Me…not so many. My mom got sick when I was so little that the memories I have of her and with her are but a handful. For most of my young life she was that person in that bed with that illness who needed all that help. But there are those who never knew a mom and have no memories so a handful of memories is better than no memories. So…on this June 11th as I honor her birthday I reflect on these handful of memories:
1. Teaching. She loved teaching. Teaching was the last thing she gave up. She couldn’t teach in a classroom anymore so she taught Sunday School at St. Paul’s Episcopal church. I think my love of teaching came from the love and sacrifice I saw her pour into her lessons, her activities, her bulletin boards and…mostly…her students. I also learned that Tootsie Roll pops makes a good classroom treat. They are a fun snack, they keep students quiet and the last longer than a roll of Smarties. She also loved being the Brownie leader and that snack involved chocolate chip cookies. Suckers and cookies are sometimes more fun than wellness policies. Just sayin’.
2. Prayers. My mom loved teaching Sunday School and she loved teaching us about the faith. Not long lessons or lectures or even stories. It was a 5-minute “lesson” each night when she taught us how to pray. And I mean each night. I wonder now how hard that was for her some nights. We would all get on our knees by Suzy’s bed and say our prayers. The one she taught us…with the Our Father first and then a litany of family, friends and pets to bless. It always ended with “make me a good girl and a helper.” The sicker she got the more important those words probably became. I still kneel at my bed each night to pray and I still add the “good girl/helper” part…for my mom.
3. Housedresses. We had matching housedresses. Yes…I am that old. “Housewives” used to wear housedresses and mom and I had matching ones. Probably ones nanny made. We would wear them after Suzy and Sharon left for school and I think we would clean. I only remember doing dishes and she would shine the copper bottom of the pans and rinse them in cold or hot water and I would have to guess which. Then she would put the pan up to my cheek and I would cheer if I was right. (It was almost always cold…really cold.)
4. Sillies. My mom was apparently a lot of fun. At her funeral friends told stories about her being the party person. They probably told some stories I had no business hearing but all the same it gave me more insight into her life than that body that laid in that bed so many years. While she was still able, she used to put on her PF Flyers and tell us they were “fairy shoes” with magic powers and chase us around the yard. Oh the giggles and the squeals…both from us…and from her.
5. Caretaking. I never remember her packing lunches, or baking, or shopping for groceries or taking us to the dentist or doctor. Dad was the “mom” for all that. But I do remember once when I was up most the night with a horrible ear infection that she held me and rocked me and sang to me. I had a lot (A LOT) of ear infections through high school but that one ear infection that one night created that one memory that sustained me all these years. It’s almost like God knew I would need one tender mom/child moment.
6. Music. She loved Andy Williams. Some days that is all she had. We would play the record over and over again. Moon River and all the songs on that album. There would be some breaks with Perry Como and Ray Coniff and Frank Sinatra…but mostly it was Andy Williams. She would call from the bedroom to change the record in the living room and it would start again. She loved dancing with dad and I wonder when that stopped. And when she listened to those songs, did she think about dancing again…walking again. Some of my favorite CD’s are…you guessed it…Andy Williams.
7. Beer. I have heard…and there are stories…that she liked a good beer now and then. I don’t think I ever saw her drink a beer but I do have a memory of her washing her hair in it. Maybe it was more a memory of my dad washing her hair and confused about wasting a good beer on a hairdo. And…let’s be honest…those party girl stories didn’t all revolve around her “fun” personality. I am guessing there were beverages involved.
8. Flowers. She never told me her favorite flower but every year when dad tended the garden he took extra care of the iris plants and the pansies because he said they were mom’s favorites.
9. Candies. She did have a sweet tooth so mine is totally legitimate. She kept cinnamon candies in the kitchen drawer. I used to take them to her (and sample some on the way). And every morning at school, before I greet the kids guess what I pop in my mouth? A cinnamon candy. I tell people it’s for my coffee breath but, truth be told, it’s probably for my mom…and my sweet tooth.
10. Determination. My greatest memory of my mom…the one with the greatest impact…was the day my dad brought her wheelchair home. I was still pretty little but I remember her refusing to use it. I remember her saying once she started using it, she would be in it the rest of her life. So she didn’t use it. And my dad carried her. He carried her to the car. He carried her up the steps to church each Sunday and he carried her to the bath tub to give her a bath. What amazing acts of love I witnessed from my dad. Talk about “for better and for worse”. Talk about for “in sickness and in health”.
There are some who would say my mom’s refusal to use the wheelchair was pure selfish. Despite my dad’s great sacrifices, I would not be one of those people. I love her fight. I love her determination. I love that she passed it on to me (even though some call it stubborn). I love even more that I got to pass it on to all three of my amazingly determined sons. I don’t know when she finally sat in that chair. Whenever it was, I do remember she was right. She never got out of it. Her determination is one of my favorite memories because it was one of her best gifts to me.
So there you have it. A handful of memories of my mom and me. No special lunches. No prom dress shopping. No heart to heart talks. She wasn’t there to help me with “woman” things (my poor dad had to have that talk). She wasn’t at my wedding. She wasn’t the first person I called when Joey was born. When the boys were diagnosed with CF, she didn’t come running to my side.
So today is my mom's birthday. I'm not sure how they celebrate birthdays in heaven but I hope she has a good beer, a class to teach, and an Andy Williams' Moon River album to dance to while wearing her PF Flyers. Happy Birthday, Mom. You have no idea how your life has blessed mine. (Then again...if you are watching over me...maybe you do.)