A Force of Nature

We’ve all celebrated Mother’s Day now. It was special in our house as our son, who’d just recovered from a bout of pneumonia, made the trip from Knoxville to spend the special weekend with his mother. He showered Amy with love and hugs, but his best gift on Mother’s Day came when he called his mother “a force of nature.” That’s high praise for any mom, but in my wife’s case, it’s also true.

            When Dallas called home a couple of Fridays ago to tell us that he’d fallen ill, his mother made immediate plans to travel to Chattanooga to take care of him. He called me and texted his mother and in not-so delicate words discouraged her from making the trip. His demands fell on deaf ears. When he complained to me, I told him,

            “There’s nothing you can say, I can say, or God Almighty can say to stop your mother from going to Chattanooga. Deal with it!”

            Amy arrived an immediately took over. She cooked and cleaned and pampered her younger child. Dallas had moments when he could help his mother clean up his bachelor’s apartment. She managed in little time to once again put the place in order. By Sunday, the boy was feeling better, and I took over as Amy traveled home to return to work on Monday.

            My presence was appreciated, but the simple fact was that I was a poor substitute for Mom. My cooking wasn’t nearly as good, my cleaning was thorough but not as helpful, and my bedside manner lacked that gentility and soothing that Dallas had received from his mom.

            Isn’t that the way for all of us? We go about our lives with vigor and vim. Then, when something hits us, whether it’s physical illness or emotional distress, our first thoughts turn to Mom. Mothers have that ability to make everything better. Sure, the chicken soup or other comfort food they serve soothes the soul. However, the thing that best calms raging fevers, gnawing pains, and breaking hearts and spirits is the soft touch of a mom’s hand. Most folks can remember as children when their mothers massaged their shoulders, scratched their backs, or simply rubbed their heads. Ah, it was heaven.

            As for being forces of nature, Amy is one when it comes to Dallas or Lacey, and now grandson Madden is included as well. She seems to be able to move metaphorical mountains that block her from her children. Somehow, her calm approach is able to conquer the toughest problems in life. Her guiding hand offers counsel that is wise and, much to everyone’s benefit, right on target.

            Our children somehow grew up while we were watching. They are now 31 and 27, and Amy sometimes worries that she’s not needed as much. The truth is that her adult children turn to her more often when they have adult concerns and questions. Sometimes they talk about jobs; sometimes they talk about relationships; sometimes they talk about health issues. Regardless of the topic, Lacey and Dallas feel comfortable sharing with Mom because they are always sure that what she does best is LISTEN.

            Lacey is now a mom, and already she’s discovered the joys and responsibilities that accompany the job. She’s even more grateful for all that Amy has done over the years for her, and she sometimes comes to her mother for advice about “what to do with the boy.” She’s the rock upon which her children can stand. I have to admit for the last 37 years, she’s been compass in life. My mother has passed, but I know how my kids feel about theirs, and I’m thankful that they see how important a mom can be. She surely is a force of nature in their lives.