As I sat in church earlier today and the preacher was readying for his wonderful sermon, for some reason like a light flash, memories of my mother came flooding through my heart. Mother passed away just a few years ago but as the years go forward for my life, I find myself thinking and dreaming about my mother. I was honored to get to sing and to speak at her funeral; a memory I will never forget.
The value of a mother is incalculable for that value is passed into future generations at times blatantly and at times subtly but passed. My mother, Mary Frances Keith Williams, was a woman of drive, of giving but more than any other descriptor from my perspective, my mother was a protector. Mother was from a family of four sisters and a baby brother. Her home life as a child was scarred by the poison of alcohol addiction in her father. Mother was the one that chose to fore go a high school education to leave home and find work to support her siblings seeing each of the younger ones graduate with honors from high school. Mother was always so proud of her younger brother and sisters as we all were in my family.
As World War II came and the men left their jobs at the huge Republic Steel plant in Gadsden, AL, mother found employment as did thousands of other women doing the work of the veterans fighting in foreign fields. She ran an overhead crane in a machine shop and from many that have shared with me, she was an excellent and very careful crane operator. Certainly of no surprise to her eldest child and only son which would be me.
When the War was over and the men returned, mother, like millions of other women, were forced out of their jobs to be replaced by the men. So many times I heard mother vent anger and frustration about having to leave the only decent job she ever had. I was too young to understand any of that at the time but as I have aged I now understand fully for her work was her pathway to economic freedom which she always longed for.
So now being jobless in 1945, she set about working multiple jobs, living modestly and paying for her siblings to go to high school and finding them weekend jobs arriving on bus transportation on those weekends. My heart swells now when I think of all she gave so that others could have better!
With what turned out to be my father returning from WWII and back into the Steel Plant, he began a barrage letter writing campaign I heard about many times trying to get mother to date him. She did and from that and the ensuing marriage, I arrived in March of 1948. But the life she chose to give up her drive for economic freedom via marriage became a replay of her childhood life but this time from my father and his alcohol addiction and not her father. It is not my intention to be vindictive nor whine about life growing up but suffice to say, I hate alcohol to this day more than any other poison Man has found to ingest into the body God created. But a family we were with me the eldest followed by two younger sisters as well as a miscarried child all between 1948 and 1955.
My mother was a woman worn by the harsh realities of life. She was tough but never harsh. She was lovable but not warm and fuzzy loving. She had temper that would rage frighteningly when ignited but she could be in a state of quiet silence and enjoying what was around her. She enjoyed music and later sang in a church choir. She always loved for me to sing to her so singing at her funeral was an extension of this life for a few sweet minutes.
The memory that flowed this morning at church was in realizing that I was probably twenty-five years old, married and a new baby when my mother quietly had gone about completing her GED for her high school education; she was in her fifties. She was running a day care with large numbers of kids of various ages single handedly. But someway found time for the course work for the GED. I was completely unaware of this for I was busy with life and career and graduate school; a blur still in my mind. But then came the day for her high school graduation held at Etowah High School in Gadsden, AL. I was so excited to attend this for her and with her for I had no idea of what she had had to accomplish for this amazing feat. Yet that joy was quickly quenched when the reality that my father refused to attend the graduation which she so badly wanted him to do as well he was actually mocking her for having done it and accomplished it.
That is the day etched in my brain as I went to my home where I was raised and confronted my father about this. I felt so unbelievably proud and yet so sorry for mother for she was deeply hurt which translated to me being very angry. It was the first time I had so vehemently confronted my father on any issue and there had been myriad issues that needed confronting through my childhood. But this was a case worth taking a position with him and assumed it might turn negative and physical for he tended to want to be a bully anyway. I did not care for Right is Right and Wrong is Wrong and his behavior and attitude was just Wrong!! Let me just say that I was so angry after the confrontation which he still refused to attend and celebrate her accomplishment that I remember very little of the ceremony other than tears of pride flowing from my eyes. for mother. I was never more proud of my mother for she had accomplished something most would have assumed she would not nor could not accomplish!
I have never put those words together until now so you can know. But today during church I felt it time to put to words how much I loved my mother. I honored her. I was never disrespectful of her. I sought her input and advice. She was a woman of few words but when she put the words out, she stood by them. She was a prophet of tough love which, of course, many times I needed in my growing up years. She was a rock in the middle of an avalanche and there were many of those in my life at home. But she never wavered, she never bolted and she never quit. Those three traits are three I believe have found their way into my DNA as well as a powerful work ethic. I love her for giving me rich example of all of those.
So what is a mother? My mother was a maker of opportunity and drive. My mother provided and protected those she loved from those than would do harm or injure those she loved. She was not articulate but there was never a question about what she wanted done. When she said it, she meant it!
I know mother is with Jesus and long to spend more time with her when my time comes. She will probably want me to sing to her some more so that will be a joy to watch those black, piercing eyes twinkle and tear up in her abundant silence. She was a good person and I only hope I can get close to that in my life that is left remaining.
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