Everyone has a book in them…
Today is Mothers Day, but I know my mom as the mother and father in my life. She raised three boys on a two-and-a-half acre ranch in northeast San Diego County. Mom held jobs at a dress shop, and a Mexican restaurant to make ends try to meet. When enough money didn’t come in we’d get a food box with powdered eggs, milk, and a bag of beans on the porch. Beans and cornbread would be on the table when the child support check didn’t arrive, which was more often than not.
Mom kept us involved and did her best to make sure we didn’t have much idle time to find trouble. Growing up on a ranch, I had a huge dirt basketball court, which would be my escape from not having a dad around. My imaginary games against Kareem and Bird, would take up most of the afternoon and evening. A radio would be on in background with the voice of Vin Scully, Chick Hearn, Dick Enberg, Don Drysdale, Jerry Coleman, Bob Chandler, Bob Miller, Bob Starr, or Tom Kelly doing the play by play of a sporting event. If not for the escape of sports, I don’t know what direction life would’ve taken. I could get lost in a game and not see what was going on around me, as mom struggled and worked to make sure we had everything we needed to move forward in life.
As I grew taller and started to show an interest in basketball, mom made sure that I found my way into organized games in the nearest town, which was 17 miles away. If mom wasn’t working, she was in the stands. Dad never made a single game.
Mom had health issues with her back, which would lead to being laid up in traction at home or in the hospital. Parents of my friends made sure that I was picked up and brought home, without missing a beat. Her health issues would come and go in high school, but she managed to make most of my games and keep the lights on at our ranch. Looking back, I have no clue how she did it, but moms find a way.
I was proud to show her the recruiting letters from college basketball coaches. I was happy to introduce her to a girl who I had met in high school(I’d later marry). I would go to church every Wednesday and Sunday morning, but I was always trying to make sure that mom wouldn’t have to worry about what would be on the table or in the refrigerator if she wasn’t feeling her best.
Mom is now 91 and lives in a small town in Kansas about a half mile from one of my brothers. When we talk over the phone, the conversation is about the kids, the weather, the company, and life. I’ve never had the discussion with her about “how in the heck did you manage to raise three boys on a farm by yourself”. I’m sure she’d say something to the effect, that “I wasn’t by myself, God was with me and with you boys”.
Everyone has a book in them…
