Things About My Mother

My mother was a Texas gal. True, her family had moved to Oklahoma by the time she was three, but once you're part of that Texas gold, it never leaves you. Or so I've been told. Born October 11, 1931, her mother was a housewife and her Daddy a welder. He helped build a major natural gas pipeline that started in Texas ans eventually worked it's way up into Michigan.

Every few years they would move so her father could work farther up the pipeline. These frequent moves may have been where she developed her gregarious nature. Like a military family, my Mom and her sister, Gayle, had to constantly adapt to new towns and environments.

In high school, they lived in Maumee, Ohio, which is near Toledo and close to the border of Michigan. She wanted to be a buyer for stores, and she took basic business courses. Her Dad didn't want to pay for college, not even business or night school courses. She became engaged to a boy who almost immediately went into the military and over to Korea. While the boy was gone, a friend arranged a blind date with a teacher from Michigan whom her friends told her looked like Gregory Peck. Before you knew it, the original engagement was broken, and six weeks later, my mom and Dad were married. Their marriage lasted more than 56 years.

Mom, Peggy Marie Strait, had no verbal filter. She most often would say whatever came to her mind. She never said anything to deliberately hurt anyone, but things could take you by surprise. As a very shy boy, it was difficult to be out with someone that open and willing to talk. She never met anybody she was too afraid to speak to. She never met anybody that she wouldn't tell the most intimate details of her or her kids life. I didn't talk much when I was out with her. As I grew into my teenage years, I was always embarrassed by what she might say or do.

I moved south. My first wife didn't care for her much. I lost contact with my mother, except for visits to Michigan once every few years. There was a long period of estrangement.

That ended with Alison. She loved my mother, and my mother loved her. We spent more and more time with them. We went up to Michigan at least twice a year, and they stayed with us or in St. Simon's a couple of months in the winter. Were things always perfect? No. But we never lost it completely, we never cut each other off again.

She had many illnesses and medical conditions throughout her life. But she survived them all, and would be glad to tell you about them in excruciating detail. She survived them, that is, except for the last one. She died October 19, 2008, after a very brief hospital stay. She wasn't in there long enough to even run the tests to see what was wrong. I received the call that Sunday night that I needed to come to Michigan. A half hour later, I got the call that she had already died.

The most important thing I learned from my mother was the power of unconditional love. She always cared for us, and supported us, no mater what we did. Every stranger she ever talked to came away knowing that this woman really cared about them. Throughout our estrangement she never gave up on me, never stopped loving me. And she accepted Alison into our family with open arms. Benjamin, that late grandchild, was the light of her life, and I am glad that she got to spend the time she did with him.

The power of love, the true meaning of Christian caring and generosity, these are the things my mother taught. There are so many other stories and thoughts I could give, but at this late hour, I will stop for now.

Mom, I love you. I miss you. I wish you were here.