Tuesday, March 25, 2014

REFLECTIONS ON MOTHERS BY THE WARD'S AND OTHERS



3-25-14 ss     
                                                   MOTHERS DAY will be in May
  
            
       I was a Daddy’s boy. Then one Sunday night, after dinner, prayers, right after I’ve gone to bed, my Daddy died. My mother was left to support us on her small town social security and church welfare. Very little else. He left no estate, no insurance, no anything, except his hunting guns firing shells , decoys, small stuff, thingamajigs and Nancy...a loving black and white spotted bird dog.
            You may expect me to say that I became a Momma’s boy. That didn’t happen. In those first awful days, I did my 8 year old best to mother my mother. As we settled into post Daddy life, I became a friend and confidante to her, something I've heard told is quite common. That closeness didn’t hold once I left home, however, and during my 20's we had some rocky encounters. Then she died and now we have a real personal relationship. We’ve never been this close in the way mother   and sons hearts belong.
      She lived in uncertainty the last 10 years of her life. Uncertainty because of a phantom Cancer anemia. Not knowing whether she would be ok, the family hung on every word the doctors said, hoping and praying that if we follow their protocol she would be Ok, ok but not cured. Multiple transfusions, transfusion that caused antibodies to proliferate and then requiring more transfusions, 1st it was 6 weeks, then 4 weeks, then 2weeks, and finally she couldn’t take anymore and she wanted to die, at 93 years of age she did.
         People are either married to a mother or were born by a mother or how else did you get here? You weren’t pooped on a rock and left in the sun to hatch. You don’t have to do anything to be born. You just pop out of the birth canal and before you can count from 10 to 7 your mother is holding     you. She has a big smile on her face. Hopefully, you came out on time looking half way normal. Standing behind the curtain looking in, you perceive having a having a baby is a hard physical and emotional experience, but mothers are forgetful, mothers, many of them have several more babies which pleases everyone but the school board.
       Instinct, mothers have instinct. They don’t need advice when they deliver; because they’re equipped with mother instinct.  It’s automatic. When you’re born you are about the size of a banana squash, wailing, yellow eyes, and blue faced. On to of that you get manhandled by aa scruffylookin know it all Doctor and by many over worried tired nurses. The  instinct code genetically came to mother’s generation after generation from moms, to grandmas, to great-grandmas on and on.  Mothers have learned well and are ready, because you get born not knowing crap, and I’m not talking diapers here. Diapers are in the next installment.
       My Mother Lottie Ward, Hickenlooper, Stringham was born August 10, 1904. Her mother and Dad owned a flat 60 acre irrigated farm in Preston Idaho. There were six boys and 6 girls.Her dad       Mr. Cyrus Ward, Elder Ward to the Saints, gave each of his children a Job doing according to what  each one did best. My mother’s twin brother got the grunt jobs. He chose my mother to be the business person and CEO of his enterprises. She was in charge of the two theaters in Preston he owned, the Isis and the Grand. She would walk a mile to the theaters, organize the theater, then go   to school, back to the theaters and more work, then go back home long after dark. She alone took     care of the money, the candy counter; paid the piano player... silent movies in those days, paid the bills and other incidentals. The candy counters made the real money. 
To be continuing… 
DR. KARL WALLACE D.D.S.        To read more of my writings please go to: W.W.W.KARLWALLACEBLOG.BLOGSPOT.COM
You may contact Karl Wallace at drkarlwallae@gmail.com                                                                            Or by calling his editor at 801-605-8249

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