Recently,
the PowerBall Lottery prize reached over $500 million. Of course I bought a ticket, but I didn’t
need to – I’d already won the Mom lottery a long, long time ago. My Mom, who passed away on February 13, 2015,
was a wonderful woman who always thought of everyone else first, and herself
last, if at all. The oldest of seven
spanning eighteen years, and the oldest among her cousins, she was the one
everyone looked up to.
She was a
successful career woman. She worked for
a number of years at Bell Telephone, but her real career was family. She had six children in rapid succession over
eleven years, and I guess she and Dad figured out what was causing it, because
they put a stop to it. All six of us
were born in the same hospital where she entered the world, Riverview Hospital
in Red Bank.
Growing up,
our house always seemed like the epicenter of a huge family. We had aunts, uncles, great-aunts,
great-uncles, grandparents, great-grandparents, cousins, and everything
else. A perfect blend of the Satter and
Zieglar families, Mom was close to all of them, and we did a lot together as an
extended family. She’d hold court with
her sisters, her cousins, and her aunts, and they’d entertain each other (and
us) for hours. And she always knew what
was going on with everybody. Our
families were together so much that for the longest time, I thought I had 20
brothers and sisters.
Along the
way, she adopted neighbors’ kids, daughters-in-law, sons-in-law,
granddaughters-in-law, and grandsons-in-law, and treated them as her own. I saw first-hand what a great mother-in-law
she was to my wife, Chris. Mom was
always interested in how our boys were doing and loved catching up with Chris. Chris and I were amused at how Mom seemed to
trust Chris more than she trusted me – every Christmas, she’d send a check as a
gift for the boys, and she’d make the check out to Chris instead of me. We’ll miss that.
Mom was a
genuinely giving person. She never
expected or wanted anything in return – for her, the gift was in the
giving. She was always concerned about
everyone else but never about herself. Toward
the end, she reluctantly agreed to stay with my sister, Debbie, because she
didn’t want to be a burden – on the contrary, Deb was honored, and many of us
were able to visit Mom to share her love.
True to form, she decided to donate her body to science, in the hopes
that someone will benefit from it.
Her warmth
was contagious, and everyone she met was touched by her. To her, the other person’s story was always
more important and more interesting than her own. A woman of strength, charm, beauty, and
character, she served as a great example for my sisters, my brothers, and me,
and she taught us what really matters. She made the world a better place, and
we’ll surely miss her.
She was
never one to hurry. She could spend
hours getting herself ready to go someplace.
It seemed like Dad was always waiting for her – he probably still
is. For most of her life, she was always
on the move though. Whenever I came to
the house to work on something, she’d be right in there with me, shoulder to
shoulder (or since she was shrinking, shoulder to elbow) whether I needed her
help or not. And very often, when I was
working in the yard, she’d be out there with me, tending to her plants and filling
the wheelbarrow with branches.
One of my
favorite, recent memories of Mom is about how she never stopped being a mother
to me. Last year, I was offered an
opportunity to work for six months in Singapore. When I told Mom, she was aghast, and for
once, fell silent. She couldn’t
understand why I couldn’t just find something closer to home. As she struggled with the idea, she said, “I
just can’t wrap my head around it.” At
60 (or “fitty-ten” as I prefer to call it), I found that I was still having to
explain myself. She even went so far as
to have my older brother call to try to talk me out of going. I made a point of calling her from Singapore
once in a while, and probably kept in better touch with her while I was away
than when I was home. And she stayed
healthy and independent until I was safely back.
There’s a
new song out by Garth Brooks for anyone who’s a mother or who’s ever had one –
it’s called, “Mom.” When I first heard
it, I knew about whom he was singing. It
begins with a conversation between an unborn baby and God, with the baby not
wanting to face the uncertainty ahead. As
the conversation continues, He tells the baby about the mother who’s expecting:
You’ll never have a better friend
Or a warmer touch to tuck you in
She’ll kiss your bruises, bumps and scrapes
And any time you hurt
Her heart’s gonna break.
So hush now little baby, don’t you cry
‘Cause there’s someone down there waiting whose only
goal in life
Is making sure you’re always gonna be alright
A loving angel, tender, tough and strong;
Come on child, it’s time to meet your Mom.
Speaking for
my brothers, Bill and Dave; my sisters, Debbie, Janet, and Joanne; and myself,
I’m sure glad we made the trip.
