AN UNUSUAL LEGACY

My Mother is a recluse.  She loves the four walls of her home and needs no company other than herself.  She is dependent on the maid for her needs and interacts with her.  She also welcomes anyone bearing the Eucharist; for the Lord, there is always a welcome in her heart and home. At 89, she is now on the final leg of her earthly journey.  

Today’s sermon was on gratitude and it set me thinking as to what I should be grateful to my Mother for.  She still is a stickler for correctness and a very strict disciplinarian - she could never be gainsaid.  Her word was law and even my Father obeyed! Though I have reached senior citizen status, whenever I slouch, accidentally mispronounce (given the environment, it happens!) or let out an unladylike wisecrack I experience that ‘ouch’ moment when I remember what Mother would have said!

So what exactly is her legacy?  There are three things that stand out: her faith, her never grow old attitude and her ear for music. And these are best illustrated by the anecdotes that follow.

My Mother has an unshakeable belief that the Lord will provide: the ‘His eye is on the sparrow’ kind of faith.  When my Father passed away, his military pension should have automatically transferred to my Mother.  This did not happen because of a goof up by the bank.  My husband and I spent an inordinate amount of time and energy, corresponding with the powers that be and running from pillar to post (now, I understand what that means!) and finally, the pension came through.  My Mother promptly gave a hefty donation to Don Bosco.  Why? Because he helped her to get her pension.  What about all the running around?  We wouldn’t have been able to do it without His intervention.  Oh well, I guess even saints need human legs!! And of course, in my Mother’s eyes, Don Bosco sits at the right hand of the Lord and is therefore a powerful intercessor.

In her mind, she is still twenty-one!  For her seventy-fifth birthday, my husband and I went shopping for dress material.  I picked up a festive red print, splashed with colour.  My husband promptly remarked, ‘I thought we were shopping for your Mum.  Not for you!”  I replied, ‘This is for Mum.’  ‘She won’t wear that.’ “Yes, she will!’.  To avoid being locked in a battle of tastes, I suggested that my husband pick up another piece.  He did.  A lovely pastel blue with a very subdued print.  We presented the dress pieces to my Mother.  She ooohed and aaahed over the red.  Hubby asked, ‘What about the other dress piece?’  Mother looked it over and said, ‘It’s nice but it’s an old lady’s colour!”  Get what I mean?

Her ear for music? Sharp even to the fraction of a discrepancy in sound.  ‘That’s false!’ often put pause in the middle of what I thought was a tuneful rendition of a popular number. Once, we had choir practice at home and one person was woefully out of tune.  We tried to be polite and rehearsed the hymn again and again.  My Mother was not so accommodating.  Her reaction? ‘What is that noise?!!!’  

I often thank the Lord for my sense of humour.  I have just realised that I also have to thank my Mother for honing it!