Friday, May 6, 2011

MEMORIES OF MY MOTHER

This is the story of Granny June as she was to become known in her later years. Like all mothers she touched many lives in her time on earth. Her life and her story were simple but at the same time profound.

She married as a young teenager. Barely more than a child herself, she had three babies by age twenty-two. All three were boys with me the middle one. She went on to have a daughter a few years later. She was a country girl with a very limited education. Very soon all three of her sons towered over her. That didn’t matter though because size did not matter. She ruled with an iron fist. Had she lived, she would have been ninety-two this month.

As I contemplate this Mother’s Day, my thoughts go back to the simpler time in my parent’s home. While it was many years ago, it truly seems like just the other day. My hope is that this column brings back memories of your mother on this special day.

She made sure that we were in church every Sunday morning and evening as well as Wednesday night prayer meeting. There was never any liquor in our house or even beer for that matter. Off color language was forbidden.

She was a marvelous cook. In fact you might even say she was a magician in the kitchen. That was good because we were definitely dirt poor. Her magic was to take a little and make a lot out of it. You may remember the Bible story of the loaves and the fishes? I think of that when I remember how she would take a scrawny little fryer chicken and make a chicken pot pie that was about two feet in diameter. The strangest part of that was that everyone who ate the pie actually thought they had eaten chicken. That pot pie would feed at least six starving people, four of whom were growing kids with hollow legs. I can still taste the cobblers and cakes she would create. What great memories.

She taught me to read well before I ever attended school. She taught me to drive a car at a very early age. She also insisted that I learn to cook for myself because, as she used to say, she didn’t want me to starve.

All of this while she was pretty much a child herself. In fact you could say that we all grew up together.

While she died a few years ago, I still see her face when I look at my daughter and my granddaughter. My hope is that I have left for them some of the values that were left for me.

As we recognize this Mother’s Day, I ask that you cherish your time with your mother if you still have her with you. If, like me, she has passed on, cherish the memories of her. I know today, whatever I have become as a man, is the direct result of a precious mother who gave her all, did her best, and always expected the absolute best result.

Happy Mother’s Day to all mothers out there and a special Happy Mother’s Day to my late mother.

Ron Scarbro May 2, 2011

1 comment:

Mike Query said...

Nice article, Ron, a great tribute. My mom died at the age of 64, way to young. She was only 18 when I was born, and like you, we grew up together. I feel sorry for my kids and grand kids as they never really got to know her as adults. Time does fly because it only seems like only last week she was chasing me around the yard and both of us laughing so hard we could hardly stand up. Good times, good memories. Hope this finds you both well. Q