Today’s my mother’s special day, a special day for a special lady. Life is never an individual pursuit, but rather the accumulation of input from and experiences with many other people. I wonder if much of what passes for good lives or bad lives simply come down to those inputs and experiences? It certainly seems true through my 50 years of life that positive or negative can and does get handed down. Certainly, anyone can break from their current worldview on life, especially in terms of positive or negative outlooks, but it is very hard to do. The foundation laid from the early inputs and experiences, obviously drawn mostly from family members, is hard to shake.
That’s why I am the luckiest man in the world to have been raised by Roberta Jean Lamkin Creasman. My mom is a a saint. Ok, sure, she’s not perfect. She worries a lot, and she passed that down to me. She is very loyal (as am I), but that loyalty can induce a tough response to others later who crossed you. In my Mom’s eyes, if you hurt my dad, my sister or me, well…let’s just say she’s got a long memory. I do too, and I know that’s not always helpful.
But my mother gave of her life, and continues to do so, for others. Just the other week as we chatted on the phone, she shared that she and Dad were on their way to visit people at the Nursing Home. She faithfully invests in her community, both the community of faith as well as the civic community around her. She spent 30 years laying a solid foundation for life in the children of Riceville Elementary school, and McMinn County is better for her efforts.
Her greatest contribution was how she lived her life as a mother. She invested time, energy, effort and love for my sister and I. One of my strongest memories was when I started swimming more seriously. My friends on our YMCA team decided to start a high school team; in our efforts to get better, we started practicing in the morning. That idea of practicing twice, while known by the better teams, had not been seen in my small town. So, we started hitting the water at 6 AM before our classes began two hours later. Now, we were never a rich family, so eating out for breakfast (what many of my peers did, or a few dashed home first before school) was not something we could afford. So, at 5:30 am, my mother would get up to prepare my breakfast of scrambled eggs and bacon or hot oatmeal, putting it all in tupperware bowls, so I would have something hot to eat before school began. She never missed a day that I can remember.
Through my adult life, the positive shadow of my parents has always been present. It’s comforting to know that when I am unsure of what to do next or have an issue to talk through, I have both of my parents to consult. I don’t have to wonder much about what a good parent or a good person looks like.
Happy Birthday, Mom. I love you!