October 6, 2009
Dear Ma,
I can still remember you making sandwiches for me and Dick or Jimmy in the kitchen and we would take a bite out of one half and pretend they were pirate boats and push them around the counter. I still sometimes play with my food. It’s called “plating” or “presenting”, but it’s still playing with the food.
You and Dad made a good home for a little boy. Dogs, geese, ducks, a cat, trees, swings, a tree house, tomatoes to eat and throw at my sisters, apricots and plums to eat, throw at my sisters and put firecrackers in. Grapes and berries to just pluck off the vines and eat. The figs I just left alone. I never figured a way to have fun with figs nor found them tasty.
Thank you for books. You always made sure there was plenty to read and it made for a good foundation for my edge-a-mu-cation. I remember saving allowances and lawn mowing money and using it to buy paperbacks. Tarzan was big, I think I had all the books. I was never so good in math, but never had a problem with reading all through school. I’m still never without a book.
Thank you for tolerating some of the fashion fads of the day. Those Madras shirts that would bleed in the wash and hemming jeans when cuffs weren’t cool and making button-down collars when they didn’t come that way, all for your boy, who now dresses mostly in T-shirts, jeans or shorts even when working. It’s the dress code of the business I’m in.
Thank you for teaching me right from wrong even if it meant employing the dreaded wooden spoon now and then or thumping my head in church. Thank you for being a loving supporting Mom to both me and my wife. We love you and will miss you dearly. Your son, Billy.
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