This past March 31 marked the eleventh anniversary of the death of my mother, a saintly woman to the day of her passing, even if it was not in her cognitive senses anymore. People have said Dave and Scott were more like Dad and I'm more like Mom. I couldn't go wrong either way but our mother was one of a kind. She did not know us the last years of her life but it never robbed her of her dignity. I wrote this on May 13, 2007.
It was one of the most beautiful songs of the rock and roll era but I remember it for the wrong reasons. Penned by Dave Loggins and recorded by the rock group, Three Dog Night, Pieces Of April spoke of love in retrospect after gently blossoming into the more mature stage of the relationship. Unfortunately, in one of the less heroic moments of my earlier years, I used the chorus lyrics to explain to an incredibly sweet and wonderful girl why it was all over from my not quite ready to commit to anything perspective:
"I've got pieces of April
I keep 'em in a memory bouquet
I've got pieces of April
But it's a morning in May."
I guess the point I was trying to make was that although we got off to a terrific start, reality in the form of our moving away from each other mandated our separate directions in love as well. You've heard guys using the you're too good for me line? It was breathtakingly accurate in my case. I immediately felt guilty, especially delivering the message in a letter instead of face-to-face. And in the process, I ruined a song I really liked.
It was one of the most beautiful songs of the rock and roll era but I remember it for the wrong reasons. Penned by Dave Loggins and recorded by the rock group, Three Dog Night, Pieces Of April spoke of love in retrospect after gently blossoming into the more mature stage of the relationship. Unfortunately, in one of the less heroic moments of my earlier years, I used the chorus lyrics to explain to an incredibly sweet and wonderful girl why it was all over from my not quite ready to commit to anything perspective:
"I've got pieces of April
I keep 'em in a memory bouquet
I've got pieces of April
But it's a morning in May."
I guess the point I was trying to make was that although we got off to a terrific start, reality in the form of our moving away from each other mandated our separate directions in love as well. You've heard guys using the you're too good for me line? It was breathtakingly accurate in my case. I immediately felt guilty, especially delivering the message in a letter instead of face-to-face. And in the process, I ruined a song I really liked.
Messing around with YouTube recently, I typed in the song title with the chance I might hear it again since it never plays on the radio. Sure enough, it popped up but with a twist. It was coupled with film clips from the movie The Notebook which seems to be some sort of women's romance film. A husband reads to his Alzheimer's suffering wife from a love story she had written down. Set in a nursing home, the elderly couple.....Wait, I don't want to spoil the ending I discovered in Wikipedia if you haven't seen it! Anyway, the linking of the movie and the song reminded me of where my folks are in life. Dad can live in both the present and the past while we aren't sure where Mom's memories are cast. Today is Mother's Day. This May morning at the end of worship service, I helped pass out long stem carnations to all the mothers in the congregation. I wish I could have handed one to my mom. I also wish she could comprehend that today is a special day for her and all the other women the Lord selected as mothers to the human race. A few minutes ago, I spoke to Mom on the phone and heard her whisper a very faint, "I love you" to her second born son. It became the latest flower in my memory bouquet. In Proverbs 31, the children of the noble woman described in detail call her blessed. That's my mother but she doesn't understand anymore when I tell her. Maybe Dad can read this to her just like in the movie. I love you, Mom.
Applicable quote of the day:
"There is no way to be a perfect mother and a million ways to be a good one."
Jill Churchill
God bless,
Steve, son of Nelda Chesshir Hawley
Luke 18:1
E-mail me at shawley@westburychristian.org
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