She was beautiful and young once, my Mom...
She had dreams...dreams of having a husband and a family. She told me once that a husband and a family is all she ever really wanted, all that she prayed for. She made a mistake when she was young and longing to be loved. She eloped with a man against her mother's wishes. He was not a safe person. He abused her verbally and physically and in less than 2 years she escaped back to her mother. That must have been hard for her, to have a made a mistake that she feared was so great that she would never have the family of her dreams. She had a hard time forgiving herself. I know, because she only mentioned this once to me, and I was never to discuss it again. How much shame she felt in her mistake. Secrets like this take on a power of their own. There is ample grace in God's arms for mistakes. He knows full well that we will make them. He provided a Saviour for us because of it. Yet some of us (me included) have a hard time receiving grace and a hard time giving it to ourselves.
Oh, she loved God and she believed Him for her salvation, but I think she had a hard time forgiving herself. So she prayed...she prayed and hoped that she would meet a kind man to be her husband and to grow the family of which she dreamed. In the meanwhile, she got a job a the Bell Telephone Company as a telephone operator. On the weekends, she went dancing at the pavilion at Cascade Park.
And lo and behold, God had a man waiting for her. A man who loved to dance. A man who loved the color brown and loved farming the land. He loved farming more than anything until he met my mom. Then he loved her more. He loved her enough to get a job in a mill with no windows and no air conditioning. He loved her enough to buy her a house and to provide for her and their family of 4...to love her over 50 years until the day he breathed his last breath.
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| Dolores Jean Patterson and Paul Lawrence |
So, Mom told me that all she ever wanted was a husband and children and God had answered her prayers. She had 4 children all together...and of the 4, I was the last in line. I was born exactly 11 years after my oldest brother, Paul, 10 years after my sister, Diane, and 7 years after my brother, David.
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| Janice and Mom |
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| In our Sunday Best |
I always loved her and never could imagine life without her. When I was a child, I loved to sit on her lap and put my head on her chest while she read a book to me aloud. I loved feeling her breath on my cheek. I loved her familiar smell; her softness. When I grew bigger, we would sit in bed together, side by side, while she read one of her historic novels, I would be reading one of my little golden books. I would stare at the same page indefinitely until she turned the page of her book. I must have driven her crazy...I would ask over and over..."Mom, did you turn the page yet?"
I remember her working hard at home. There was laundry for 6, cleaning, cooking, snapping and canning beans, canning cherries, tomatoes and jam, gardening and school issues with 4 kids. I remember her singing along to the radio while she ironed clothes. When I was very young, we had one of those old-time washers with a big wringer and an open tub. She would have to feed the clothes through the wringer with her hands and a stick. One time, she got her finger stuck in the wringer...who knew laundry could be dangerous business?
I would be by her side wherever she was...I played in the basement with my dolls while she did the wash. When she watched Let's Make a Deal and had lunch, I would pretend to be a contestant and jump up and down and scream whenever a prize was won. I was her shadow.
I am sure she missed me some when it was time for school but it was probably nice for her to have a break from me being under her feet. I remember my very first day of school in first grade. Our parents were supposed to come at the beginning of the day for registration and to meet our teacher. She wanted me to have the full experience and to be excited about riding the bus, so she dropped me off at the bus stop and met me at the school. Looking back now, that makes me smile. She even thought to ask an older kid on the same bus route to allow me to sit with her on that first day so that I would feel more comfortable.
There weren't many African Americans in my little town. My mother was concerned about how I would react if there were any in my classroom. So she prepared me by making me practice smiling and saying hello in case there were any kids who looked different than me. I can still remember the conversation and her drilling me.
I had a long walk from the bus stop down a gravel road. It would ice over in the winter. I remember I would often see my mother's face in the kitchen window, watching for me to come down the lane after school. One day, the road was so icy that I feared falling. So I crawled home on my hands and knees (in knee socks, no less!), pushing my lunchbox in front of me and then crawling after it. I can still see my mother's face in the kitchen window cracking up laughing...she watched me crawl all the way to the front door.
At least twice a year, my mother took me clothes shopping. Once before school started and once before Easter to get an Easter dress and other spring clothes. These trips were very special to me where I had her undivided attention and had opportunity to get pretty new things. She took pleasure in buying "nice" clothes from JC Penney. She believed in the best quality that we could afford. She took pride in not buying us clothes at discount stores that she said would fall apart.
In addition to her love for reading, I also inherited my mother's budgeting skills (though not so much her frugality, I am afraid). She never worked outside the home after marrying my father and she was able to manage the household well on his modest income. Every two weeks was payday and grocery shopping. In addition to staples, she would usually buy a favorite cereal and a bag of chips, some soda, and maybe a carton of ice cream...but we were admonished not to open the chips and the soda or the ice cream too soon because there would be no more until the next payday. Usually we didn't eat them the first weekend, we would wait a few days at least. The anticipation was half of the fun.
She did her budget for the month by hand on a piece of white paper where she drew the lines herself. I have a copy of the last few. She kept them in the kitchen drawer. I remember her sitting at the kitchen table going over the numbers and adding out loud.
I was mean to her sometimes. I would go back and do it differently if I could. I had an insatiable appetite for clothes and nice things...things we could not afford. I gave her a hard time about it. She gave me everything she could give but I always wanted more. Sometimes I made her cry over it. We both cried...me, the spoiled child and her, the mom who just wanted me to be happy. She sacrificed her own material desires many times for me and our family. She really did love me, probably more than I will ever understand.
In later years, I took great pleasure in taking her shopping when I would go home to visit. I loved buying her clothes and attempting to spoil her, although I understand that I could never match all that she had given me.
These are just snippets of memories...there is so much I could say about the uniqueness of her. She had a wonderful laugh that sounded like hiccups to me. We had fun times as a family bowling, playing miniature golf, visiting the farm shows in the summer and fall...and always picnics. Mom's potato salad was the best! We also had fun playing cards and games and just sitting around the television set together. Just being together was good.
As much as I appreciate her love for me, I am perhaps most blessed by how she loved my father. He had her whole heart. She loved him purely and completely. I cannot imagine what life is like for those whose parents don't love each other. I will always believe that my parents' greatest gift to me was loving each other. Home was the one place where love and commitment were constants. It was a comfort to know that they weren't going anywhere. They were in it for the long haul. In fact, it is hard to talk about Mom without talking about Dad. They were inseparable.
These are just snippets of memories...there is so much I could say about the uniqueness of her. She had a wonderful laugh that sounded like hiccups to me. We had fun times as a family bowling, playing miniature golf, visiting the farm shows in the summer and fall...and always picnics. Mom's potato salad was the best! We also had fun playing cards and games and just sitting around the television set together. Just being together was good.
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| At the Lawrence County Fair (early 1990's) |
As much as I appreciate her love for me, I am perhaps most blessed by how she loved my father. He had her whole heart. She loved him purely and completely. I cannot imagine what life is like for those whose parents don't love each other. I will always believe that my parents' greatest gift to me was loving each other. Home was the one place where love and commitment were constants. It was a comfort to know that they weren't going anywhere. They were in it for the long haul. In fact, it is hard to talk about Mom without talking about Dad. They were inseparable.
My Mom was full of love and devotion. She laughed a lot, too. I think they are both laughing in this picture.
So, Momma, you left us 10 years ago. I knew it was inevitable, but still, the timing surprised me. It was just 8 months after Dad had passed on. Maybe I shouldn't have been surprised at all.
I will always love you, Mom. I will always thank God for you. I believe in His providence and in His sovereignty...and I believe He gave us to each other. He picked you to be my mom and he picked me to be your "surprise" girl. You are missed today and always.
For You created my inmost being; You knit me together in my mother's womb.
...My frame was not hidden from You when I was made in the secret place. When I was woven together in the depths of the earth, you eyes saw my unformed body. All the days ordained for me were written in your book before one of them came to be. NIV Psalm 139:13, 15 & 16
