Today is February 25th, 2016...My mom is 72 years old today. Because of her, you are reading this blog. Because of her, I have a mound of memories, and if you will give me a minute of your time, I'd love to walk you through the high points of my memories to allow you to recognize the strength of not just my mom, but all moms.
I was born, 1966 to Marie and Kenneth. A couple that moved away from their family in rural west Alabama to make life better. They dated, got married, bought a house for $19,000, and 4 years later had a son...me. I was the first, the eldest, the wisest, and certainly smartest. Life was good! I've looked at pictures, and my mom was smoking' hot! Yes sir, living' the American dream.
I remember watching my mom and dad handle life. One of my earliest memories was my dad helping me get ready from my brother's funeral -Rodney Eugene Jones. I remember that my mom was stuck in the hospital while my dad and extended family buried a 5-day old sibling. Over the years, I thought about how my mom must have felt during that dark hour...those very dark hours.
In '72 there was a girl-her third. She cried at night, spit up, and stank, but she was cute. Soon, I realized we had very little in common, but mom reminded us how we were always connected.
We grew in years, and through those years, I can always remember a family member staying with us. It was a cousin of an abusive alcoholic father, or a different cousin of an abusive husband, or cousins, aunts, uncles running from an assortment of pains. I can't remember a time growing up without relatives living in our home! My mom and dad felt obligated to grow the next generation by giving them hope...I remember feeling some resentment.
I can also remember my mom sitting at baseball practice in a lawn chair resting in red dirt when I was five -not T-ball...baseball- when she spoke out and told the coach..."I don't know about you...but I'm taking my kid home" because of an approaching storm. We got home just in time with limbs beating our '72 model dodge van. It was that same day that my dad brought home our old '66 model Volkswagen painted black with red pen-stripes, not quite the new '72 Monte Carlo-black with red pen-stripes that my mom really wanted. My dad could really deliver, couldn't he?
I can also remember, my mom opening a restaurant for my aunt even thou both mom and dad owned a beauty-shop, dump trucks, and my dad working a full-time job at ACIPCO. They did as a wedding gift.
Other memories helped to shape me...I remember my mom teaching me to cook; making me load and unload the dishwasher; wash endless amounts of clothes and beauty shop towels; and tricking me to paint the deck. I remember her never missing a football game and telling me she could never ever watch me wrestle again because it was to tough on her. I remember her whippings that didn't hurt, and the time she slapped my jaw because she thought I was smiling when I was really gritting my teeth -the slap...it hurt! I remember multiplication tables...reading assignments...and late night popcorn - on a stove before the days of the microwave.
My mom was a rock! Today, as I drove to visit her, I thought of my dad. You see I can't think about my mom or dad separately...they are synonymous like the Holy Trinity - together, but separate. I can't celebrate my mom without celebrating her strength...my dad passed away in 2007. One month later, I left both my mom and my family to go to seminary in Atlanta, during which time my sister was...who knows, wherever! My Dad died July 30th (Jackie's Birthday), mom had open heart surgery in November. Within months she re-entered surgery to clean up her incision because of MRSA-infection. My mom is undeniably tough!
Through this....my sister was...wherever?
Since then her recovery was tough but manageable...we struggled with depression and physical health, but God saw us through it all. Today is the anniversary of her birth, and I praise God! I praise God not just for her, but for moms everywhere...for your stories, and your strengths, and your hurdles to over-come! In Jewish tradition there is always signification and testimony of the patriarchs of the family, but today, I am reminded that without the matriarchs there are no patriarchs, and no sons to tell their story.
Years ago, Coach Bryant was asked to do a commercial for South Central Bell...He asked, "Have you called your mama today? I sure wished I could call mine." If you can...call your mom, and tell her how much you appreciate her contributions to the world and her love for you!
Moms are so stinking tough...If you are a mom, I love you!
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