From the Swings

So many things in my head today – many about Mom and Dad. I suppose it’s because in a few days Mom will have been gone for four years. Rather than be sad, I would like to celebrate her life. I know Papa won’t be jealous. In fact, I’m quite sure he will join my little memory party.

For starters, here is an early recollection. Mom was slender and small boned. She loved to rock in her special rocking chair. I don’t know where they got the one she had when we were growing up, but it sat two – as long as you were only as wide as Mom. I remember her reading to me in that chair. Rocking and reading…that was Mom.

I’ve been told she started reading to me even before I was born. I believe it, because all of us kids loved to read. One of the only effective disciplines my parents had when I was young was to threaten to not let me read. That got my attention! Please don’t take away my books! It would still work today.

We also had a kid’s swing set in the back yard at the farm. It was by a peach tree, just to the west of the barn and corral. Mom also loved to swing! And, you guessed it, she was small enough to fit into a kid’s swing. I remember in the summer we would all go out and she would sing old songs and swing. “Shine on Harvest Moon, “Peg-o My Heart” and others. I’m sure these songs are probably out of favor these days, but I can hear her singing as the swing went back and forth.

Sometimes our German Shepherd, Louie would run down the hill and join us. He was a superb athlete. My brother, Doug, would get him keyed up and Louie would leap over the slide with ease. “Circus dog!” Doug would call like a Ringmaster, which would cause Louie to race back and do it again. Mom would laugh at their antics.

Mom also made lists. Every day. Even when she retired she made lists. Once, when she was well advanced in years, I asked her why. She said, “I need to get things done today. People need goals. Everyone I know who stopped having goals is dead. I don’t plan to be one of them. So, I make lists.”

I realize now that Mom taught me a lot of things that have helped me to survive in sometimes very unexpected circumstance. Now I’m the one making lists every day.

Mom – you are greatly missed, and I thank you for everything you taught me. Some of which I’m still learning.

I hope you are swinging and singing today. “Shine on, Harvest Moon...”