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| Mom and Sherry |
My oldest sister, Sherry, reminds me that the mother she knew was not the mother I knew. She does not mean this in absolutes. It's true, though. She got a mom who was very young; in her late teens. And she was not only young, but her husband was off fighting battles across the sea, and her own mother was Heaven-bound. Mom and Sherry were really learning life together.
Mom's little curly haired girl was her everything. That's kind of a heavy to lay on a kid. But it's what happened to a lot of people during WWII. Young brides had babies who had no fathers. War complicates things.
I, on the other hand, was kid number 6, followed closely by kid number 7. I just sort of fell into formation. It was a rare and treasured moment if I got time alone with my mom. Nonetheless, I felt loved and cherished.
Today, in the climactic moments before we laid the body of my Aunt Becky in the ground, my cousins told brief and charming stories of their mom. Sweet little snippets of memory so we could tighten the stitches that bind her to our lives. My cousin Mary Lou stood at the pulpit and told us that she wanted to share a memory of the mom she knew that maybe the younger kids might not have known. Aunt Becky and Uncle Richard had two batches of kids. The first was a beautiful cluster of girls, four of them: DeAnn, Gail, Jane and Mary Lou. These were the ones we hung out with during our visits. I was one year younger than Mary Lou. Then, eight years later, the second batch started cooking. Michelle, Mark, David and Gina joined the clan. They all grew to be dear, close friends to us.
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| The two Miskin batches combined |
In her short talk at the funeral this afternoon, Mary Lou recalled a day when she was young, barely old enough to have vivid memories. She laid on the grass next to the ball field in Ucon Idaho, searching through the blades for four leaf clovers. Her attention was only diverted when her mother came up to bat. The mom she knew was a powerful hitter. A strong, well timed cut snagged the ball and sent it flying, clear out over the heads of the outfielders. Mary Lou didn't remember what team Becky was playing on, either a church league or community team. But she did remember thinking her mom was super awesome, and so strong. When asked how she was able to swing so powerfully, Becky responded that she thought it was good strategy so she wouldn't have to run so fast.
Tonight I am remembering all of the women in my mother's family, down to the very youngest. Strong women, every one of them. Unique, every one of them.
Beloved, every single one of them.
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| The Parrish girls Back: Edna, Ruby, Ruth, Mary Front: Mae, Becky, Afton |
I remind my sisters, my cousins, our children, and their children, the same thing I remind myself: We come from solid stock. Quit the whining, straighten up our slumpy shoulders and step up to the proverbial plate. Keep our eye on the ball, and when the pitch is good, swing for the fences!
It's in our DNA.
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| What became of Richard and Becky Miskin |
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| This is how I imagine my mom felt last week. |
