50

My sweet mama would have been 50 years old today.

I don't know if she would have wanted a big party for the milestone. She always made a big fuss (read: she was great at making you feel special and doted on) over others and their special days, and she usually didn't mind if we did the same for her. I'm imagining there would be turtle cheesecake involved and we'd all be somewhere near the water.

One thing I know for sure is that I don't think she would have been self-conscious about the big 5-0 and getting older.

She was settling into the 'empty-nest' phase of life quite well. She was having a grand time testing out the latest and greatest expensive anti-wrinkle creams with Italian names you couldn't prounounce. I think I still have some of it, because as I was cleaning out some of her stuff, I took one look at the price tag and couldn't bear to throw it away. Truth is, she was beautiful and didn't need the creams at all, I don't think I'm going to be so fortunate. (Good thing botox is more socially acceptable these days)

With me and K'Ann out of the house more, she also loved to find a couple of quiet hours at the beauty shop. If you knew her, you know that she'd also already been a brunette (natural), blonde, red-head, and a mixture of some of those a couple of times. Personally, I think red-head was one of my favorites...made her even more sassy than usual.

So, she was beautiful and had great hair. Obviously, she was much, much more. Her generous spirit was unmatched. She hurt for those who were hurting and gave to those who needed. She loved and loved and loved all of us, even when we didn't deserve it.

No one is perfect, but I consider myself lucky that I was able to call her 'mama' for 22 great years.

I thought I'd end by sharing something she actually wrote herself for her weekly column that I think gives a perfect glimpse of what she was like.

Unfortunately, she didn't get to experience some of what she wrote about, and neither did we, but she made her life count and we all love her for it and miss her.

A few acts of kindness made my day
By Eva Ann Dorris

April 18, 2006

The audience I spoke to last week may not remember everything I said, although they were a receptive group, but they surely will remember me as the lady that gave the shirt off her back, literally.

After speaking to the group and enjoying the relief that comes when people laugh at the right time, tear up when appropriate and ask questions with genuine interest, I sat down to enjoy lunch and interact with a group of teachers.

As we talked, one lady said “enough about the book, I want to know where you got that blouse,” referring to the one I was wearing. I told her I ordered it. She was disappointed because she hoped to be able to go buy one to wear the next day. I knew I could order another one without any trouble, so I told her if I could find something else to wear home, I would give her the shirt. I don’t even know this woman’s name, but thanks to a wind jacket scrunched under the seat of my truck, she went home with the shirt off my back. The other teachers at the table laughed and assured me the lucky teacher would be expected to share the shirt.

I could chalk the experience up to generosity and in a way it was, but I enjoy seeing people’s reactions when I do something so off the wall. Suddenly, I found a table of friends I didn’t have when I woke up that morning. We laughed; they promised to read my book; and I offered to come and talk to students or work with classes anytime. The ladies got a shirt, and I got an experience for a column.

The day before, another experience occurred worth sharing and hopefully inspiring. On a visit to my oncologist, I noticed a couple sitting close together, tightly holding hands and obviously terrified. When the man excused himself for a few moments, I couldn’t resist going over and sitting with the woman.

I was lucky. She could have told me to go away and mind my own business, but when I offered to allow her to hold my hand until her husband returned, she relaxed. She was there for an ultrasound due to a lump that showed up on her mammogram.
I didn’t offer her horror stories. I told her she was in the hands of the best doctors around. For her not to panic until she had the results; and even if the ultrasound was suspicious, she was still a long way from being diagnosed with cancer.
I told her to keep the faith. I offered up a prayer for her, and then my name was called and I left her sitting there alone.

Later that afternoon, the woman and her husband happened to walk by the pharmacy where I was waiting on a prescription. She had a huge grin on her face and gave me big thumbs up. A window was between us, but I could read her lips as she said, “thank you.”

Also this week, I received an e-mail from a reader who suffered though similar health problems as myself. She said reading my column each week was something she looked forward to and something that kept her from feeling so alone. She suffered mood swings and hot flashes and also has a teenage daughter. She’s afraid her daughter will only remember the irrational, moody, hormone-challenged mother. That has been my worry as well.

Without divulging her identify, I want to say to her and all women going through health issues that affect us physically and mentally to remember a few months are but a snap in time to our children. Try to explain to them you can’t help you aren’t yourself and apologize when you have enough wits about you to recognize you are being unreasonable.

It won’t take them long to forget these times, and by doing what has to be done now, whether it’s surgery, treatments and/or the abrupt cessation of hormones, you are fighting to be there years from now when they need you to pack and move them to yet another home, to plan a wedding, rock a grandbaby or perhaps hold them close when loss or life’s hurts invade.

So, another week has passed and I was able to bring laughter to over-worked school teachers, befriend a reader who felt alone and hold the hand of a stranger.
I’d say that’s about as good as it gets.

Thanks for reading