I think that sometimes you are unaware of your impact on the universe. It is far easier for me to see it from here than for you to see it from your vantage point. You see, for me, I see you in every facet of my life. I see you in my children and in my grandchildren. There is strength within you that you might think has gone unnoticed and undervalued for all these years. It hasn't.
I remember the ‘old man named Joe, who dropped a big rock on his toe’. It is one of my earliest memories. When you would drive me to kindergarten, you made up all of these crazy songs. I never got to school in a bad mood. I carried that on with my kids. We would make up words to songs. They never made any sense but at night I would sing to them…songs from my heart…songs no one else would ever hear.
I remember you reading to me from this big Bible with just a few color pictures in it. You started in the Old Testament and a lot of the stories didn’t make much sense (heck 40 years later a lot of them still don’t) but I remember how intently you listened to my questions and let me thumb back to the pictures so I could look at them.
You taught me how to understand fractions even before we ever learned about them in school. I remember the day clearly when you showed me how they worked. They were just a puzzle. So when it came time at school to learn about fractions, I already knew. I remember how you could add a list of numbers faster than someone could run them through a calculator…and you were never wrong.
I remember going off on adventures. You would get bored and we would all get in the car and just go. I remember the time we just up and went to Jefferson City. It was so much fun. We didn't even have toothbrushes but we stayed in a place with an indoor pool and that was crazy. I remember the day that you and Mom came and got me out of school and we drove to St. Louis to go to the Book Fair. I was surrounded by books, everywhere I looked. It was a little like going to heaven. I remember finding a huge stack of books and you bought me every one of them…just so long as I promised to read them. I think some of them were old textbooks but it was just so much fun. I still always look for old golf books even years after you stopped collecting them.
I remember thinking that no one really cared how well I did in school. We had just moved to St. Louis and I was feeling rather lost. I remember how I felt when I found out that you carried my grade slips in your wallet. You were always quiet about such things but from that moment on, I really understood how proud I made you.
I remember how the attic offices of the golf shop smelled. I remember waiting until well after dark waiting for the last cart to be found at Tan Tar A and then us going out for pizza at like 10:00 at night. Our life was so often a strange adventure. One like no one else’s. We took our vacations at weird times but that just made them special. I could never understand why people would take vacations in the summer…it was much better to get out of school for a week or so to go and visit family.
I remember when you fell and broke your arm at Queenie Park. It never occurred to me at the time, how devastating that could have been. I remember watching you so diligently crawling your arm up the wall and letting the vodka bottle swing as the muscles had to rebuild. I remembered this most keenly last year, when I fell and broke my tailbone. You taught me how to overcome injuries. I thought that all of my hard work in regaining my healthy body would be lost. But I remembered you and how you persevered. Six weeks after my fall, I was cleared and declared even stronger than I had been when I fell. I remembered you.
When I get frustrated at Christmas from all the demands and ‘I wants’ and ‘do this’ and cancel Christmas, what I remember is one day a very long time ago, back at the Lake, when you very clearly explained the true meaning of Christmas to us. We were in the car. You told us that more important than Santa or gifts or anything else was that Christmas represented the day that Jesus was born in a manger. At the time, it didn’t make a lot of sense, but every year, right after I cancel Christmas, cause kids and shopping are making me crazy, I remember that conversation and I take some time to breathe. No matter how crazy and hectic the season, that memory stands out in my mind.
I remember how when you would get frustrated with ‘the mess’ you would take it in hand and could whip a room into shape in about an hour. Me too. I am still working on the whole keeping organized and neat, but I have high hopes in that department.
I remember how you never insulted or denigrated any minority or people group. You raised us to really believe that everyone was created equally and you demonstrated that throughout our childhood. I remember how you supported the Lions Club and the Missouri School for the Blind. You live a life that shows that everyone is on equal footing.
Every time I look at one of your grandsons, I remember you. David is so much like you…mostly brilliant. His brain goes into a gear that most people will never understand. Jeffrey got the part of you that doesn’t like conflict. He is a bit of a peace keeper but he always sees the best in everyone just like you. Evan? Well, Evan teaches the same way you always taught. He has an innate ability to break down a complex topic and put it into terms that his student can understand. He teaches what he knows, which is music. With a similar tenacity that you always showed, he persevered. He practices his craft. It makes him a better student and a better teacher.
Even though my sons don’t carry the name of Morris onto future generations, they carry your heritage and your strengths. They are good men with strong values and strong personalities. They love their families and their country. Bradon is already showing signs of similar traits. He is brilliant, articulate, loving and fair. I see that next generation as being strong and full of character and love.
Rose and Ari and all who come later will be raised in what was steeped by your influence. I want to you know that I am proud to be your daughter and I love you very much.
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