Friday, December 17, 2010


Had a good friend of mine send me a note today marking all of the events, and first in aviation that happened on this date, December 17. The Wright brothers first flew was among the facts and tidbits he included. He has spent his entire career in the aviation. I got to thinking about the date and remembered something else of merit happened on this date; 79 years ago, My Mother was born!

I have spent the day remembering my Mother. This day marked the first day of Christmas in our house. It was the day we got to put up our tree because my dad would not allow anything to be more important than my Mother’s birthday. This day also marked the beginning of the gift giving season, as my Mother got to open one gift a day, starting today, until Christmas. I think it made my Dad a lot happier than her because she always wanted everyone to open gifts early. I can remember this time of year my Mother getting everything from little puppy dogs, diamond rings, watches, and bracelets, too automobiles. My Dad worshiped her and her him. It was not a Ward and June Cleaver thing they truly loved each other. My Father is the one who taught me how to treat my wife. And I can only hope that, if he were here today, my darling wife would thank him.

Another tradition in our house was you got to eat anything for dinner you wanted on your birthday night. Well Mother’s again was a little different. She always got to go out where we always had to stay home!! I can remember once when Mother asked to take us along on her birthday dinner. I think it almost hurt my Dad’s feeling. We got to go because Mother got what she wanted, but you could tell we were getting a peak into something that my Dad really wanted to keep between him and her. After all with 4 kids there wasn’t a lot of together time. Other than the early morning or the late nights whenever it was he was off was their only time. Tthis time of year my Dad would work 3 jobs if he could juggle the schedules. He worked at the airport, 37 years, he always played in a band every weekend, and this time of year would work at Corondilet, or Goldsmiths, or somewhere stocking at night, or putting bikes together, or doing something to make it all happen for the rest of us. I can remember him coming home dead tired and seating at the washing machine, feet up, drinking boiling hot coffee and talking to my Mother. I can remember, when my room was next to the kitchen hearing them talking about everything from his music to money. She always had time for him and when he was home, and awake he was the numero uno thing.

As I sit here wishing I could call her today and wish her happy birthday there is no way I can be sad. I can see her in heaven sitting at the table with my Dad his feet up on the washing machine talking about whatever you talk about in heaven. One thing is for sure it’s not money anymore!!

Call your Mother, if you can, even if it is not her Birthday

Love you Mom, Peace

The Blessed Man

No comments:

Post a Comment