Mother’s Day is May 12 and as part of the celebration, The Herald Independent is publishing some of our readers’ fondest childhood memories of their mothers.
“Let’s rock and roll”
“Mother’s Day is a good holiday for me. I take that special day that society has set aside and reflect on all the fondest memories from my childhood, like the one from my third grade year. My mom sent me to school looking like a rainbow! I had on green shoes, orange socks, a red shirt and blue pants. Let’s not forget the colorful rain ”bows” in my hair. I am still laughing at that today. She has always sent me to school clean, even if that meant being colorful. Then there was the time in sixth grade when I got a spanking at school and she was trying to be mean but couldn’t. She said this is going to hurt me more than it hurts you. My mother always has a sense of humor and she has taught me many things that have helped me in life. The last fondest memory of her was when I was in labor. My mother told me to “quit crying like a baby” and “let’s rock and roll!” I wish my mother, and all mothers, a Happy Mother’s Day.”
Barbara Hill, daughter of Betty Ashford of Winnsboro
“Best in the world”
“Everyone always says my mom is the best mom in the world. But please, let me ask you. Did your mom do this? Would your mom sit out in her truck and sew while you fished in a nine inch pool of water all along with her knowing you never had a chance to catch anything? Would she go to countless baseball games and cheer the loudest for you and even tell some rude parents who had no class, to sit down and shut up if they didn’t have anything nice to say? Would she throw baseball with you until you threw too hard and broke her foot? Or would she take you an hour and a half away for a little league baseball game even though you were in summer school because of your own laziness of not doing your schoolwork throughout the year? Any mom can buy their kids happiness but mine gave me two things money can’t buy—unconditional love and her TIME!! Now you tell me that isn’t the greatest Mom in the world. I love you, Gloria Hutson.”
George Hutson, Winnsboro
“A mother’s love transcends all obstacles”
“My mother died on Dec. 4, 2007, at 87 at our family home in Winnsboro after a long battle with frailties of body and manic depression. During her late middle years, the illness proved difficult to diagnose, but several breaks with reality in the 1980s confirmed the diagnosis. Mother struggled to accept it and after several hospitalizations for refusal to take medications, we encouraged my father to seek institutionalization for her. She had become irascible and hallucinatory, sometimes overly demanding of her caretakers. He instead hired rotating shifts of nursing professionals to care for her at home. No doubt this came from her own mother’s rapid decline in health once she had been placed in a nursing home late in her life.
Mama’s condition was fraught with physical and emotional strain and my father valiantly cared for her. She was the queen of the living room area where she sat all day long in a recliner watching the coming and going of all, often demanding everyone stop and listen to her instructions. Complications from osteoporosis and stroke-like symptoms of unconsciousness in the fall of 2007 sent her to our local hospital for diagnosis and treatment several times. The final time appeared to be the beginning of the end, as she was unresponsive, and the medical staff consulted with us about signing off on further medical interventions to keep her alive. We could not help but wonder her mind perceived conversations going on around her. As my father and siblings were preparing to go home from the hospital for the night, we presumed Mama would not make it out of this coma and were resigned that this was the end. As we were putting on our jackets to leave, my brother leaned over and kissed my mother telling her that we all loved her. We then heard my mother’s faltering voice whisper, “I love you!”
She was back and wanted to go home. Her determination not to die in an institution, as her mother had, was strong and her desire to be with her family overcome her coma. She came home that next day and lived several more weeks before dying bed near my sleeping father. She would have it no other way.”
Pelham Lyles, Blair