Two things:
- I am not a “What if?” person ordinarily. I don’t spend time pondering “What if I’d met HH in seminary?” or “What if we’d accepted that call in ____?”
- I’m not writing this so that you will respond with being sorry my Mom died so young. Yes, it was a life-altering experience and parishioners from those first years after she died still remind me how much I choked up when I was their pastor during prayers and sermons and ordinary conversations. (Romans 8 was a challenge to say out loud even though I believed it.) It’s not the most shattering thing in life to lose your mom when you have a six week old baby. But it was not easy.
Mom would have been 90 years old today.
More to give myself a moment’s indulgence rather than feel sad or sorry for myself, I spent time over the weekend imagining “What if?” What if she were alive today?
I imagine her to be in good enough health to be able to have dinner at her favorite restaurant – The Angus Barn – with her kids and grandkids and all our spouses over the weekend. And Dad – who I imagine would be there at age 93 if she were alive – would need a cane even though he left it in the car because he’s always been that guy.
(He died just after she did of a broken heart. And also non-Hodgkins lymphoma.)
She would have had 13 grandchildren and five great-grandchildren with another one on the way. We would probably have gathered for an exhausting time over at C&C’s in Raleigh – after dinner – with cake and ice cream and all the great-grand babies. SNE would have baked not one but two of Mamaw’s pound cakes. (Big crowd.) SET would have helped her pick out a cute outfit.
We would have laughed hysterically about those times Mom and Dad and Mamaw and Papaw played Rook late into the night with color commentary after each hand. Or the time Mom, C, and I watched Team USA beat Russia in the 1980 Winter Olympics and we lost our minds as if we knew anything about ice hockey. There would be another 35 years worth of stories.
Dad would have commented that Mom’s always been “a jewel.” He would have gotten a little weepy when he said it.
I’d rather have had my mom for only 32 years than have any other mom for a longer lifetime. The truth is that her lifetime was excruciatingly short and her death altered all of our lives. But HH and I try to keep her alive by talking about her and Dad often. I have lunch on her birthday every year with a mom I admire.
If you knew her (she has two surviving siblings, 20 surviving nieces and nephews, and 19 first cousins) I’d love for you to share a memory in the comments. Or just thank God that we all get to know each other.
As the global treasure Nelba Marquez-Greene always says, “God bless especially the grievers.”
A Church for Starving Artists 
Jan I cannot share memories of your mother, but I can relate to everything you write. It would be my Father’s 100th birthday next week and we just passed my mother’s 101st. My sisters and I still miss them after many years, but like you keep their memories alive. My children feel like they knew their grandparents despite being very small when my father died and my mother made the move to assisted living. That move started her trek that would end in the nursing unit ten years later, in a room across the hall from her childhood best friend. My kids all know that Polly introduced Granndmom to her beau’s childhood best friend, that he made a pass at her on their first date, that she wouldn’t go out with him again until he pleaded and apologized for a month. They were married for forty years. My parents had a long term care policy that paid for Momma’s last ten years, so money Daddy left in trust for her care came to us. Rather than divide it, we invested it and use it to fund family gatherings. We have toasted Momma and Daddy in Italy, and the NC mountains, and at the beach, at weddings in Virginia and Georgia and at a couple of funerals too. Had we divvied up the funds, we would long have forgotten whatever home repair or other expense we each used it for. Instead the “Travel Trust” helps keep their memory alive even as we make new memories, memories that our grandchildren will feel they remember–even if they were to young to remember– because they have heard the stories.
Sorry for baltherine on. I really enjoy your column. May the Lord Bless and Keep Us All, Catherine D. Byrd Stated Clerk, Charleston Atlantic Presbytery 4701 Park Place West/ North Charleston SC 29405 cbyrd@capresbytery.org 843-209-5917 (cell) 843-766-4219 (CAP office local) 800-230-9293 (CAP office toll free)
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It is only in my older years that I have come to appreciate my parents and all they did for me. Oh, I knew they had done a lot for me to have the life I did, but now I can see how their personalities, especially my father’s, made me who I am today.
My father could not read or write but he was quite the numbers guy and loved conversations and meeting people. It’s only now that I have realized that was how he learned things, by talking and listening and questioning. His voice has been whispering to me lately and reminding me that is what I need to do. People are important teachers. Learn everything you can from everyone you meet. BTW, my dad’s 115th birthday anniversary just passed.
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Jan,
I love this! I totally agree that I would rather have had our Mom for a short time than any other Mom in the world.
She was gracious and gentle, loved and served her family endlessly and often put herself last. She was a true beauty inside and out.
She loved the sun wherever she was, at the beach or in a chaise lounge at home.
She was a gifted seamstress, cook, baker, secretary and had many other skills. I would hope she loved all those tasks but tend to think her motivation was taking care of her family first.
Mom loved college basketball, of course the Tarheels, but i also remember times she would stay up late watching random teams during March Madness after we had gone to bed. She would also stay up past everyone’s bedtime sewing. I believe most of my dresses were made by her ( I still have a few I can’t part with).
She adored her first grandchildren, Ashley and Ben. These two babies were the joy of her final days! I remember after Ben was born, she snatched him out of your hands so fast Jan, because she had to hold him. At the time she had been in extreme pain from cancer but wasn’t about to miss this chance to hold her first grandson. She passed a few weeks later.
It’s been 35 years and many grandchildren and great grandchildren later. She would have been in heaven with all these beautiful babies.
I love you sis and Happy 90th Birthday Mom!😍💖🎂
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Jan,
I love your imaginings…
I was a very small town girl who came to the big university and was lucky enough to get YOU for a roommate. Can anyone imagine getting a pot luck roommate and having it be Jan Edmiston?? There were so many wonderful and happy and fun things about living with you! And because you were going to college in your hometown, I got to be part of the Edmiston’s Sunday lunches. It was a short trip – with laundry in hand, we would enter the house yelling “home from college!” There was Barbara, Henry, Cham, Mike, and little Sue ☺️. I was always welcomed just like one of the kids. And there was the Sunday spread with bread and desert and sweet ice tea. And we laughed – the kind of laughing where tears would roll down your cheeks – you had to be one of the funniest families! Barbara was always so sweet, generous and happy – loving and strong. Barbara and Henry should have been here long enough to grow old with their family but they were only here long enough to have raised kids who are thoughtful and serious and fun and funny and really good people.
I know they are so proud!
Happy 90th, Barbara ❤️
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