Letter to Mom

Mom… I’m going to miss you. In all the years I have been gone living my life elsewhere, the last six months, being with you and Dad have meant the most to me. I wished we had longer but your body was just giving out. I’m sorry I didn’t understand until the end. No need to worry about Dad, I’m here until he joins you again.

I’ve been thinking all week of what I would want to say, from the discipline you instilled to the love for others you always seemed to find. Even the critical things you would say about others taught me to not do the same for me, so thank you. Thank you for the tonka trucks, bikes, baseball gloves, and on top of all things else the immediate love you had for my new family when I married Jen. It meant so much for the girls as you’ll hear today as we celebrate our mom, wife, grandmother, and friend you have been.

I told Dad of an excerpt in my book talking about discipline. I was reminded of Gibson Department store and you carrying a belt in your hands through the store. Some people coming up to you and remarking on how well behaved your kids were. Well damn lady you would be too if the lion tamer had control on you as the lion. I didn’t want to get whipped!! I also remember your encouragement of us to go outside and have fun. Adventure began at the front door, you said. You supported me being a horny toad wrangler and selling them for 5 cents each. Allowing us to play on the swing set and thoughtfully leaving it unbolted to the ground so that we would get the thrill of it rocking TO and FRO on the apex of our swings. Not telling me no to riding my 10 speed down highway 40 at 60 miles an hour and crossing the bridge seams and about losing it, you just shook your head and called me crazy. Your trust I wasn’t out doing drugs (sorry I would score a beer whenever I could) and I did try pot. In other words, you always encouraged me to seek and love passions in my life and so many days were yes days.

I’m so happy you’re no longer suffering and dealing with a body that didn’t want to cooperate with how good your mind still was. I know I could say more and from time to time I will talk to you and share what is going on in my life. Until the day I join you and the family that has passed before us, enjoy time with Maw and Papaw and have fun walking again. I know you might have missed that more than all.

I love you so much, keep me safe, and watch over our babies and grand babies when I can’t.

Your loving son,

Buddy

(This letter is the letter I left in my Mom’s casket. I share, now a year later, not because I want you to think good of me, but because I want you to understand how I felt in my complicated relationship with Mom. It was never perfect, but we still adored each other. We fought, bickered, cried, and loved each other beyond belief. I didn’t always believe in the things she said or believed, but I believed in her love for me 24/7, rain or shine, thick or thin, and good or bad. She was my Mom and a damn good one.)