I
recently saw a women at Ralph's Supermarket as she corralled her young
children. I suspect she was a single mom, the wife of an American
Warrior, or married to an engineer who, "works all the time". Her eyes
were bright as she made tactical decisions while trying to accomplish
the mission at hand. I smiled, as I recalled Theresa and I trying to
control our three boys at those ages. Even with our, "zone defense" it
is still a struggle. I thought how brave the young mom was to forge
ahead, alone. It reminded me of our mom.
Bravery
comes in so many forms. It is not limited to Seal Team members as they
fast rope from the landing skid of a helicopter to the roof an armed
terrorists hideaway, a combat Marine on patrol in Afghanistan, or an
Astronaut who is strapped into the seat of a rocket preparing to be
launched into outer space.
In
my book, anyone who faces adversity in life and hangs in there while
refusing to quit, is a hero. My mom always emphasized keeping, "a
stiff upper lip". I find it kind of funny that I am not sure exactly
what our mom was thinking when she would say it. I never thought to ask
her.
I suspect her intent was to encourage all of her kids to be strong
during the heat of the battle. Our mom never did cry during the course
of, "home combat operations", but on a rare occasion, I sometimes could
see her quietly and covertly wipe away a tear, sneaking away. I think
those few tears revealed the incredible challenges and burdens she
faced, often alone.
During
World War II our mom was one of many, "Rosie the Riveters" at
Consolidated Aircraft in San Diego, where she assembled airplanes in the
all out American war effort while our father attended flight school and
served our country as a Navy Pilot. My mom's first name was, "Lou
Ann", but I always called her, "Mom".
A
high school friend's mom once asked me and her son to both call her by
her first name, "Eileen". I agreed, but it was so weird. I then asked
my friend, "why"? He said it made his mom feel younger. I of course,
went straight home and asked my mom if she would like me to call her,
"Lou Ann"? Boy, was I surprised.
You
would think I had just ignited the base of a rocket and I was the
astronaut. My mom's commentary started off with, "Raymond". Any
sentence when I was growing up starting with my complete first name was
usually an indication, I would not like what was to follow. It was not a
tirade. It was just, well, forceful. My mom looked me straight in the
eye from a distance of about twelve inches from my face, "I have worked
very hard for the title of mom. That is what you will always call me". A
Marine Drill Instructor would have been very impressed. Immersed in
those words was a sense of caring, but the directive was clear and
non-negotiable. My mom had set me straight. I was her sixth child of
seven, so as they say, I was not her first rodeo.
My
mom consistently showed bravery whether it was raising all of us seven
kids or when she was selected to serve on a jury trial for a capital
murder case in our hometown of Albuquerque, New Mexico. A woman was on
trial for the killing of her husband. During deliberations, my mom,
"hung" the whole da
rn jury.
Twelve fellow jurors voted for guilty while my mom was the sole
dissident, proclaiming the woman's innocence. I remember my mom saying,
"The husband was a drunk who regularly beat his wife. I was not going
to send her away". To only be a fly on the wall during those
discussions...
rn jury.
Twelve fellow jurors voted for guilty while my mom was the sole
dissident, proclaiming the woman's innocence. I remember my mom saying,
"The husband was a drunk who regularly beat his wife. I was not going
to send her away". To only be a fly on the wall during those
discussions...
Though our mother never flew an airplane in battle, (like our dad) she consistently demonstrated bravery
and toughness. She was a warrior of her own right. Her rank only had
three letters, "MOM". She was the one to drive our old three quarter
ton, Dodge pick up truck, we called, "Betsy". She would drive us to
baseball, football games, Boy Scout outings, and even drive-in movies.
Once while driving, the floor gear shift came clean out of the floor
until it was hanging in my mom's outstretched hand. Despite traveling at
about fifty miles per hour, she just jammed it back in and kept
driving. All the time and all the challenges, she kept that, "stiff
upper lip".
The
more I look back in my life, I wonder why only our dad had a drawer
full of medals with the multicolored ribbons intertwined like an unkempt
birds nest. When in fact, it was my mom who deserved some medals of
her own. I think if we added up all her acts of heroism the drawer
would be difficult to close. Though my mom and dad passed away just
before our first son, Troy was born, I would like to present our mom
with a few long, overdue medals:
RESTRAINT
First
and foremost, an award for restraint demonstrated when she did not beat
all of us when three of my brothers and myself got in a peeing battle
just prior to walking into the Officer's Club for Easter Sunday
dinner. Boy she was mad, but thank goodness for black dress pants.
HUMOR
Award
for humor under difficult conditions. With dad frequently gone and
money very short, she worked her culinary magic by always making dinner
time enjoyable and delicious. It was amazing how often she could cook
exceptional Navy beans, ham, goulash, and tuna fish casserole. Mom it
was fantastic!
LEADERSHIP
So
many examples. Leadership award for telling all those dads who tried to
give you a hard time for being the only mom in the class where you
helped me learn to shoot a 22 caliber rifle. I loved it when in class,
you told those chauvinistic, insecure men to, "mind their own business".
DETERMINATION
Determination
for you performance under difficult conditions. When the mean old lady
in the big, new Cadillac purposely rammed our parked VW Bug in the Sears
parking lot, and fled the scene. You deftly snapped off her car
antenna. I'll never forget the sight and sound of the antenna, hanging
by a wire, clanking against her new paint as she drove off.
BRAVERY
Finally, Award for Bravery.
I
remember the last few things you said to me while we were alone at
Scripp's Memorial Hospital,. As we were immersed in the mechanical
sounds of a hospital late at night with darkness flooding into the
room. It was a time we both knew, without saying it, that your life on
this beautiful planet was being measured in only hours, instead of
years.
You of course started with, "Raymond". You then told me how you would
not have changed anything and given the chance, you would do it all
again. You concluded with, "You really should get yourself a book, it
will make time pass easier".
You never stopped being our, "Mom". That is the most important service and job title there is.
Enjoy your week with your family,
Ray & Theresa Shay
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