“But first and foremost,
I remember Mama.” This
was the last line of
Katrin’s autobiography
in the story, "I
Remember Mama," a
story of Norwegian
immigrants struggling to
try to keep the family
budget in balance and
find a way to see that
their son had enough
money to go to school.
As the story goes,
Katrin who aspired to be
a writer but had
received rejections of
her work, set out to
write an autobiography
of her own family in San
Francisco; the time
frame was 1910. This
effort was a success.
The original story told
in a book, "Mama’s
Bank Account"
written by Kathryn
Forbes, was so popular
that it was told again
in a play in 1944 and
then in a popular film in
1948. The “Mama,” Marta
Hanson was an adhesive
for her family in tough
times.
A story that could be
told over and over again
in every generation:
Time and again, Mama’s
love and devotion for
her family kept the
family afloat,
physically, spiritually
and emotionally. This
doesn’t diminish Papa’s
contribution, but he had
a different role. And
that was the way God
intended their lives to
be. We have been
designed to perform
certain roles in life
that no one else can
understudy successfully
for.
“Who can find a virtuous
woman? For her price is
far above rubies”
(Proverbs 31:10).
My own “Mama” was very
different from my
“Papa.” They each made
an impact on my life in
their own way.
Different doesn’t take
anything away from their
influence on each other
and their family. God
loves diversity! All we
have to do is observe
the variety in human
beings and in nature to
realize that God is
never boring!
I, too, “remember
Mama.” I remember that
Mother saw that her
family was fed and
clothed before she would
even consider anything
for herself. I remember
that she was the first
one up in the morning so
we could enjoy a nice
breakfast before our day
got under way. Mother
was the last one in the
bed at night. Even
though we never missed
church, many Sundays we
woke to the aroma of
fried chicken, biscuits
and gravy; and we made
it to church on time!
When the family business
began to wan due to
closing of the coal
mines in Southeastern
Kentucky, Daddy headed
North to Detroit and got
a job. Soon he found a
house and moved the
family there. Times
were hard even though
they both worked and
sacrifices had to be
made, but they
persevered. I am sure
many families could
inject their names into
our family’s history and
write it as their own,
but in my eyes my Mother
stood out from the
others that I knew. No,
she wasn’t perfect, but
she was filled with
love!
In her last years when
Alzheimer’s Disease
began to rob her of her
ability to reason and
make judgments for
herself, she was still
that caring, selfless
“Mama” that I had known
all my life. She
worried about others and
went out of her way to
reach out to them and
put herself in a lower
priority.
Mother has gone on to be
with Jesus, Daddy and
our twins, Kelsey and
Alice; but her influence
and her memory have not
faded. I miss her
very much. I miss
being able to pick her
up to go shopping with
me, stopping by Long
John Silver’s and eating
a fish sandwich, her
favorite. She was
great company and a good
sport no matter what she
was called on to do. I
miss seeing her walk to
the pulpit in church and
singing her favorite
song, visiting those in
the congregation that
she thought might be
neglected. I miss our
telephone calls and long
conversation at her
house or mine.
Yes, “I remember Mama”
and look forward to the
time that we will all be
reunited again around
God’s family table. In
the meantime, I think
she makes God smile
often with her love for
Him and her family. I
am proud to be one of
hers!
“Honour thy father and
thy mother: that thy
days may be long upon
the land which the LORD
thy God giveth thee”
(Exodus 20:12).
....Delores....
For more on my “Mama”
click here.
PS. The rose on
this page (except
the floater) is from my
yard in Kentucky where
Mother lived with me
before AD claimed her
mind and ability to
enjoy it. Imagine
the beauty and
aroma of God's "rose
garden" where she
is now!
What Rules
the World?
Blessings on
the hand of
women!
Angels guard
its strength
and grace,
In the
palace,
cottage,
hovel, Oh,
no matter
the place;
Would that
never storms
assailed it,
Rainbows
ever gently
curled;
For the hand
that rocks
the cradle
Is the hand
that rules
the world.
Infancy’s
the tender
fountain,
Power may
with the
beauty flow,
Mother’s
first to
guide the
streamlets,
From them
souls
unresting
grow—
Grow on for
the good or
evil,
Sunshine
streamed or
evil hurled;
For the hand
that rocks
the cradle
Is the hand
that rules
the world.
Woman, how
divine your
mission Here
upon our
natal sod!
Keep, oh,
keep the
young heart
open Always
to the
breath of
God!
All true
trophies of
the ages Are
from
mother-love
impearled;
For the hand
that rocks
the cradle
Is the hand
that rules
the world.
Blessings on
the hand of
women!
Fathers,
sons, and
daughter
cry,
And the
sacred song
is mingled
With the
worship in
the sky—
Mingled
where no
tempest
darkens,
Rainbows
evermore are
hurled;
For the hand
that rocks
the cradle
Is the hand
that rules
the world.
.....William
Ross
Wallace,
1865
|
|