Today, we honor mothers’ contributions to our lives. It’s impossible to separate the part of me that comes from Mom. All that we love deeply becomes a part of us.
As we get older, our relationship with time changes. Time moves out of the shadows and assumes a position of prominence. Mom left us seventeen years ago. Were she alive, she would be approaching her 100th birthday.
Mom never liked to draw attention to herself. I hope she wouldn’t mind me sharing a few memories:
Phyllis Mae (Prien) Coats, in her early twenties
It’s hard to imagine Mom in her twenties, young and filled with hopes and dreams.
She was the youngest of 10 children, born in the short span of 12 years during the 1920s. Her father was a machinist who worked two jobs to support his large family. Her mother ran the household, including the herculean task of preparing daily meals for thirteen (a live-in Aunt helped out).
Money was tight, so Mom never got the opportunity to attend college, which, in those days, was prioritized for her brothers.
Mom had many talents:
– She was an excellent seamstress, making her own wedding dress and dresses for all her bridesmaids.
-She could fix anything. One day, my beloved microscope broke, and Mom disassembled the numerous tiny lens groups to troubleshoot the issue. When she put it all back together, it functioned perfectly.
-In addition to being a “fixer,” Mom was a “finder.” Whenever we lost something, Mom always found it. I could hunt for what seemed like hours for an item lost in the grass, and Mom would spot it immediately.
–Mom was an excellent pastry chef. Unbelievably, she prepared a new dessert each day for dinner. Mom’s apple pie is not a colloquialism in our family; I’ve never tasted a better pie than hers.
Mom’s superpower, however, was her total focus on us.
-Our summers were filled with trips to museums, art projects, and Mom’s favorite, swimming in community pools.
-Whenever we were sick, Mom stayed up all night by our bedsides, bringing cool washcloths and ice chips to help us feel better.
-Mom was an active Cub Scout and Brownie troop “den mother.” She also spent countless hours schlepping us to music lessons. I credit my love of music and the arts entirely to Mom. She had a great singing voice and was a member of the church choir for decades. I can still remember her strong tenor voice ringing out Christmas Carols in our home.
Mom was adventurous. When I bought my first gasoline-powered mini-bike, she couldn’t wait to give it a go. Following my brief instructions covering throttle, brakes, clutch, and gears. Mom climbed on, twisted the throttle wide-open, and dropped the clutch. She screamed across the yard in a wheelie, trailing a cloud of blue smoke, before being thrown over the handlebars.
Mom’s later years were troubled. She suffered from bipolar disorder, which worsened with time. Anxiety-ridden dementia plagued her last years. Her personal challenges, however, were well hidden in our childhood; Mom’s dedication to us was complete.
Life can be difficult. But in the end, it’s our impact on others that defines our lives.
I can’t imagine having a better mother.
Happy Mother’s Day, Mom!
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A lovely tribute, Tim. She must have been quite proud of you and the man you became.