She taught me that you catch more bees with honey. The easiest way to get what you want/need is to smile and be gracious.
When I was a young child, maybe 5, I broke a ramekin of hers that had little blue, red and yellow flowers on it. It was part of a set. She used them a lot. I thought I had broken the equivalent of a family heirloom. When she came home and I told her, teary-eyed, what I'd done, she gave me a big hug and kiss and told me that she loved me more than she could ever love any dish. My little heart swelled.
She was my first and greatest example of a strong woman. This is not something that came easily to me as a young person, being strong. But it was always there, in my blood, and in my eyesight, because of her. Thank goodness that tree branch eventually grew within me.
She loves the beach more than anyone I know. Especially in the late afternoon when it's cooler, and the light is low before the sunset.
She has told me my whole life how strong and capable I am. Where would I be without that? I truly have no idea.
She was a cheerleader at the University of Alabama and has had me cheering for the Tide since I was in utero. I remember her screaming so loudly for an Alabama football game in our Texas living room that my baby brother ran away crying.
She ran into Bear Bryant on campus at Alabama. Literally, was running late, walking quickly, and ran smack into him. He called her "little lady" or something like that in his deep, gravelly voice.
She snuck in bourbon with me to an Alabama football game. Security doesn't check mom purses.
One of my best childhood memories: I am swinging on the swing set in our backyard at dusk in the summertime; I am with my sister and my dad is pushing both of us. My mom leans out of the pass-through window between the kitchen and back patio and calls us to dinner. There is nothing more wonderful and safe than how I felt at that very moment.
She was adopted. I have always known this. To me this was never a thing to learn to understand. The fact that she was adopted has always given her a shiny golden hue of specialness. She was plucked out to be my grandparents' daughter, my dad's wife, and my mother. There is nothing more wonderful on this earth than that.
She always made sure I ate nothing but the healthiest of foods when I was young - applesauce on whole wheat pancakes (instead of maple syrup), lots of veggies, whole wheat pasta with a little cheese for macaroni and cheese… when I went to a friend's house to spend the night and they made Kraft macaroni & cheese, I asked what the "orange stuff" was and refused to eat it.
Tami Taylor reminds me of her.
Her given name is Cynthia Jane, but she decided in her youth that "Jane" was too plain and started spelling it "Jayne", something that she continued through college. Her mother didn't say a word and indulged her by putting "Jayne" on the invitations to her Sweet 16 birthday party.
Her cure-all for a chest cold is a hot toddy - hot tea with lots of lemon and honey and a good dollop of bourbon. She gave this to me as a child (in very small doses!) which tasted strange but it worked, and she still tells me now to drink it as a thirty-something-year-old.
My senior year of college, when I found myself in some personal trouble, she and my dad drove all day the next day after our phone conversation from Texas to Alabama. That night in a random parking lot in Tuscaloosa, she gave her hurting daughter a big hug, just as soon as she could get to me. I was wearing jeans and a long-sleeved yellow shirt. I could have been on Jupiter and they still would have come.
I had my first boyfriend in middle school. I was too shy to tell her. But after we broke up, I couldn't keep it from her and when she asked me what was wrong, I told her that I'd had a boyfriend but he was no longer around. After a conversion with me, listening to my story, she gave me 3 little golden rings of hers. To me those little golden rings represented all of her love and I couldn't have been happier. And screw the boyfriend.
When I was approaching puberty, she gave me several books on the subject and had me read them. And then had discussions with me afterwards. This is an awkward situation for a preteen girl, but it was one thousand times better than the alternative of not knowing anything! Thank you Mom for having those talks with me!
My mom and dad drove to Tuscaloosa for my 21st birthday and threw me a surprise birthday dinner at my favorite restaurant (DePalma's). She bought pastel colored votive candle holders and had them lining the table, all of my friends took one home at the end of the evening. I did too, mine was purple. At the end of the night my mother cried because they had to leave the next day and were going to miss my actual calendar birthday. As if that mattered to me, they had already given me the perfect birthday.
She taught me to take care of my skin at an early age. She had me washing my face before school in elementary, and wearing sunscreen before most people even knew what it was. My skin today thanks you for it!!
When my sister and I were young and fighting like crazy, she would aways end her interventions with, "I wish that I'd had a sister when I was your age, you are so lucky to have each other!" Lauren and I would just look at each other like she was crazy. But she was right. My sister is one of the most delightful creatures on this earth.
Her favorite color is red. She had a red car for a while and called it Red Hot Mama. Just like her.
She taught me that driving a stick shift was cool. I can drive any car!
She taught me that a little lipstick will always help you look better in photographs.
She forced me into typing lessons, which I fought, and which made the rest of my computer life from that day on easier.
She brought me to a life in Christ on the floor of my bathroom in our old house. She used the example of what I had done wrong, whatever it was, to show me how all of man was sinful. And the only way to salvation was through Him.
She spanked me, and my siblings, herself. There was no "wait until your dad gets home" in our house. We had to deal with her immediately!
She calls her parents "Mother" and "Daddy". Which I just love.
She has compared me to her mother, which is just about the highest compliment I have ever received in my life.
When I was in college and about to drive home to Texas, she would FedEx me her cell phone to use "in case of emergency". I didn't have one yet, hardly anyone did, but she made me call her at every state line so she would know I was okay.
She has the most beautiful turquoise jewelry, influenced by the time she spent in New Mexico.
She made up the best songs when we were kids. My favorite was about brushing your teeth… "'Cause Old Mister Tooth Decay is so mean, but he won't get Megan's teeth if they're so clean!"
She sings songs to Merci, her granddaughter. Merci is so lucky!
When I was in the 7th grade, she busted me out of school in the middle of the day and told me she was taking me to see "Doctor Zhivago". It was about *that time* for me and I thought she was taking me to see a gynecologist for the first time, I had no idea who Dr. Zhivago was or what she was talking about. It wasn't until she pulled up at a movie theater that I started to relax. The theater was showing a revival of one of her favorite movies and she just wanted to share it with me.
She introduced me to soul music at a very early age. She listened to Anita Baker tapes in the car until I knew every word.
She was the first sound of a woman my ears heard - the sound of sandals on feet and gold bangles on wrists first came from her.
She tells me she loves me in sign language.
She tells me she loves me in sign language.
She called my grandmother, her mother-in-law, "mother-in-love". And she now calls my husband and my sister's husband her "sons-in-love".
She can talk to a wall. She has called me from work on multiple occasions saying, "I just met so-and-so, and his sister's husband's daughter went to Alabama two years after you. Do you know her?"
Her nickname for me was "Meffie" because of my initials MEF.
She hand painted little flowers on barrettes for my hair.
She was almost named "Ernestine", the combination of her parents' names of Ernest and Wylline.
She married and gave me the absolute best dad.
When I was in high school, summertime at the beach, and she'd caught me after I had sneaked out of our beach condo one night, the first thing she asked me was, "Did you have fun?" And she was serious. She really wanted to know if I'd had fun, there was no punishment in her voice. I answered, "yes".
I cannot fathom where I would be without her.
She raised three children. I cannot even imagine. All hail.
*I shamelessly stole this blog idea from this article.
