Happy Mother’s Day! If you are a mom, God bless you…you live a life of service, sacrifice, and love.

This day is near and dear to my heart…seventeen years ago, I spoke to my mother for the last time on Mother’s Day. God blessed me in allowing my final conversation with her to be filled with love and appreciation. (She died three days later…unexpectedly….) Having had quite the tumultuous relationship with her, a phone call ending pleasantly was not a given...so this one got me through years of angst over wishing I had been kinder to my precious mom. (Again, that God...so good to me.)

None of my "grown-up" friends knew her. (ALL of my childhood friends did, as she was sorta everyone's mom...the one who hauled us EVERYWHERE!) She died before my grown-up friendships formed…and that has always saddened me. (I feel like Chuck got a good idea of what Mom was like through living with me...knowing Shea, Kelli, and loving my grandma so much.) My mom was something else!

Rather than telling you what a fantastically amazing woman she was, I thought I’d share some of my favorite memories.

Her name was Hester Sue. (I always wanted to have a daugther so I could name her Hester...I just love that name.) As is common in the panhandle…syllables get elongated and shortened in odd ways…thus, her name became “Hairsue.” Well okay, only Dad called her that…but I just LOVED it.

She and dad mugged every morning in the kitchen before he left for work (ewwwww). Not a sweet kiss on the cheek…a BIG, passionate display for all of us to gross out over.

Mom was a hairdresser (but gave up the profession to be a stay-at-home-mom)…every morning until I was in fourth grade, she would brush and fix my hair.

She always freshened up before dad got home: brushed her hair, applied makeup.

When she discovered that I had diabetes (I was 6), she researched and found THE BEST doctor in TX, who happened to be in Galveston…a mere 12-hour drive away. Twice a year she took me to see him.

Her laugh was boisterous. Sometimes she’d get so carried away with laughing that she would cry uncontrollably.

We did summer track. Most kids took the bus. Mom hauled me, Shea, and my friend Ginger all over the panhandle in her station wagon. We’d have to get up at 4 or 5 to get to some track meets. She’d make a bed in the back of the wagon, and put us in…then drive us to our destination…snacks in hand…and sit all day in the SUN.

She was a GREAT cheerleader and coach. We had a basketball goal in the front and she’d do drills with us. She was the LOUDEST one in the stands at all the games…and heaven help any coach that did not play her daughters enough.

She loved her daddy. He died when she was 25ish. It changed her...saddened and deepened her in a way that even a five-year-old could see.

One of my favorite moment’s with my mom involved a car drive home from Amarillo. It was just the two of us. When we were about 45 minutes away from home, she rolled down the windows and blasted the music…and we sang at the top of our lungs.

For some odd reason, the fact that she went all out for Halloween touches me…perhaps it’s because it’s not really a holiday…and the effort was for the sheer joy of getting into the season? I just remember her hanging up our scary paper witch on our big picture window…it had movable arms and legs so she’d position it just so then run out the front door to look at her work. We (Kelli, Shea, and I) would sit and watch her work…taking orders…move the leg up…move her arm down. We had one of those plug-in jack-o-lanterns, too. Once everything was in place…we would all run outside and gaze at the glory of the spooks on our picture window…

This was her reaction upon seeing a beautiful sunset...or something striking in nature, "Oh my God...would you look at that? Look at it! Kids...just look at that. John, oh my...would you look at that. Is it not amazing???? Look at that. Wow, just look at that." (We of course were all rolling our eyes..."WE SEE IT, MOM!!!!!!!!")

Mom lives on in each of her daughters. She lives in Kelli’s take charge abilities and tireless energy. Kelli makes things happen and takes care of everyone. She lives in Shea’s devotion to children and in her dedication to her family. She lives in my loyalty, courage, and exuberant responses to nature’s beauty. How many times did Chuck have to say, "Yes, Jan. I see it."