Photo of the Day - May 12, 2007 - Mom

Well, tomorrow is Mother's Day, and since I usually do not post on Sundays, I thought I would remember my mom today. Maurine Sanders was born March 27, 1932, and died February 27, 2001. It's been six years now since she left us, and her four children miss her so. Mom was a quiet person. She made no fuss about herself and her needs, and was always involved in projects for her children or grandchildren - cross stitching, smocking, or cooking - and was always reading a book (usually with the TV on). She was unbeatable in any game that required general knowledge.

Mom inherited from her family a dark and slightly wicked sense of humor. She passed that on to me I am afraid, along with her migraines. Mom was one of those people easy to take for granted, always pressing on, not messing with your business, doing kind things. She wasn't totally kind. She held grudges, didn't look toward all kinds people with equal kindness, and was stobborn. She had a great laugh, well, before her stroke in 1984, and which she regained in the last weeks of her life oddly enough. She would get tickled and start laughing until she cried. I remember more tears from laughing than crying, and I am afraid she had plenty to cry about. She had peculiarities. We still joke - at her expense - about how, with her very very active boys, she became almost immune to our various injuries. The heating pad was the cure for everything. Unless bone was protruding, or the mercury shooting through the top of the thermometer, you were not going to the doctor! I spent a lot of time on the heating pad!

Mom was a good and faithful daughter and sister. She called her mother every week, and after her mother died, her sister Carolyn. She was faithful and steady like that.

My mom died from a series of doctor mishaps that led to an overly lengthy surgery to replace a mitril valve blown out by a blotched pacemaker insertion. Her last six weeks were a roller coaster ride. But I personally reconnected with her in a new way during that time, rediscovering her in a new and deeper sense. And then she was gone. But I am ever thankful for the words of gratitude and regret that I was able to express to her. You know, no mother is perfect, and my mom was not. I hope, if you have the chance - if your mom is still living - that you can let your mom know that you love her, and mean it, and if you can't mean it, pray to God to be able to mean it. You were probably no walk in the park for your mom or dad, well, if you were anything at all like me!

I have a whole set of pictures devoted to my mom. You are invited to explore them here. I picked a picture of mom for this post taken well before I was born. It has those eyes, that hint of mischief, and that beauty that caused one Columbia boy newly in the Air Force, and stationed outside her town of Sherman Texas, to fall head over heels for her.

I miss my mom. I dream about her every week. Sometimes I wake up very sad because I realize she is not there anymore. Often I reach for the phone to call her whenever the weather changes or there is some report out of South Carolina that has trickled up my way.

A week or so after her death God gave me a wonderul gift. It was a dream. It was the most amazing dream of my life. There before me was my mom, in intense and full living color. She was not a still portrait, but a living model. I was able to gaze at her for some time, notice the lines on her face, the details of her eyes, and her soft kindess and selflessness of her persona. It was so intense, so richly colorful, and took I believe so much brain power to form, that I woke up utterly erxhasuted, but knowing I had been given a great gift. I still remember her that way.

So Mom, Happy Mother's Day. You were a great mom, and we miss you.

Joel