Date posted: January 24, 2008 - Thursday
Title: Remembering
Current mood: sad
Naomi Elaine Chastain-Fisher 1924 - 2000
My Mother.
Today would have been her 84th birthday. Everyone remembers their mother's birthday, but I had an easier time than most. I knew it came just two days after my own. I was kind of an early birthday present for her. I was born and two days later she had her 20th birthday.
She came from a generation that grew up in The Depression. A generation where the women married young and spent their time raising a family. She raised eight of us to be the best people we could while dealing with being a military wife and moving every couple of years to a new location.
We, the eight siblings, are her legacy on this earth. A testament to the strength and perseverance of a Southern woman from Texas. I say perseverance because it was not an easy life raising us. Oh, we never lived in abject poverty, but there were times which were rough and tested the mettle of us all. And through it all, despite her own trials and troubles, she cared for us all in the best manner she knew.
We are scattered to the winds now, although most of us are within driving distance of each other. But the cohesion we had as a family dissolved with her passing almost eight years ago.
I wrote her eulogy and spoke at her funeral, just like I had for my father five years before that. I felt, as the oldest child, the oldest son, it was something I had to do. Strange that I cannot remember if any of my siblings spoke. I don't even remember if they wanted to and if my urgency stopped them. I only hope I did her justice in the words I wrote and spoke that day. Those few words I wrote, and the ones written for my father, I hope were some of the best I have ever penned.
My mother wasn't a saint. Like all humans she had her faults, but those are dim in my memory. Washed away by the passing years and the memories of the better times we shared as a family.
She was always proud of her children. And I hope we justified that pride by the way we lived. She talked for years about writing a kind of family history. I bought her a word processor once so she could reach her goal. It sits now on the dining room table, untouched for its' intended purpose. She never got around to working on her dream. I guess there were too many other things she had to do in caring for the rest of us. I am sorry she could not have realized that dream because there are things about her and my family I will never know which were held deep within her memory.
I heard only recently about her concern for me when I had some troubles when I first started college. My sister casually mentioned my mothers' thoughts about my struggle. I was stunned. I don't remember her saying much to me at that time, but my memory is not perfect and there is much I wish I could remember about her.
But I shall always hold dear one phrase she spoke to me shortly before she passed. A private phrase I cannot share with anyone, but one that summed up for me a lifetime of being my mother.
Upon this day my mind is filled with the wonderful things about my mother. The large and the small things she did to help me grow into the person I am today. The kindnesses and efforts she put forth to ease my pains, help me pursue my dreams and form whatever strength I have to face the day and live in the world.
She encouraged me when others may not have thought I was taking the right path. She defended me when she thought I had been hurt. She did that for all of us; all eight of us.
I wish I had been able to do more for her while she was here. When she got sick before she died I tried the best I could to help. My brother came and stayed with us for a while to help. And another brother took her to medical appointments when I had to work.
Still, I wonder if I did all I could. Was there something more I could have provided? She did, after all, deserve everything any one of her children could have done.
My mother lies now beside my father. Her on the same side she occupied in the bed they shared through 50+ years of marriage. They are at the top of a hill with a tree nearby and only a few yards from the spot where my best friend lies.
