My Mother’s Legacy Of Class, Culture & Tact

Share

I can remember my Father telling me the story from as far back as I can remember about how my Mother was the most thoughtful and gentle soul that anyone can be around.

I knew this always and this is where I get my gentle side from more so, not to say that my Father wasn’t a gentle man but he forte’ was being that strong male figure to me.

He didn’t have to try to be that, HE WAS!

Oh, by the way, both of my parents are deceased on this level of existence but they walk with me always from within as you will see me refer to them often on the LanceScurv blog. Heck! Without them there wouldn’t even BE a LanceScurv blog! LOL!

But moving along, I wanted to share this personal story with you today because I feel that we as human beings are so inconsiderate toward one another in the area of tact. My Father said that one day he came home from work really tired. My Mother prepared him one of his most favorite Jamaican dishes (She was a born Black-American but knew how to cooked Jamaican cuisine for her Jamaican husband! LOL! He trained her well!) and sat down with him as he devoured every delicious morsel that he could in record time.

She laughed with him and listened to his stories of the day as well as bringing him those second helpings of food that she knew he would crave.

While he was fatigued and wanted to rest, she knew that the evening wouldn’t be complete until they cuddled on the couch (That was the version told to me, but looking back I think a whole lot more transpired on that couch but I guess I will never know and don’t really need to! LOL!). While the black and white television played in in the background as my Father sunk down into that pre-slumber state my Mother then embraced him tight and began to speak of his Mother (My Grandmother). She reminded him how much she loved him and how God is such a good God to have blessed her to have such a wonderful son that she can now call her husband.

She didn’t have to even say a word because my Father already knew where this was going as she could feel a tear stream down his face as she held him even tighter. They now both cried in each others arms as my Father thanked her for breaking the news of his Mother’s passing in such a calm soothing considerate and tactful manner. My Mother really knew how to do things with class!

Now fast forward to November of 1990.

I came inside to visit with my Mother for a while and was greeted with my favorite dish of baked chicken and potatoes as she sat next to me at the kitchen table. We spoke on so many things and even laughed a few times about the old stories my conundrums growing up. She was so attentive in bringing me another helping of those potatoes that I couldn’t seem to get enough of. The color television play in the background and the Dolby surround sound system that I installed for her sounded just as good as the first time that I hooked it up.

Our thoughts and conversation went over to my dear Father who was now hospitalized for his diabetic condition in which his blood sugar levels were out of control for a time. I wanted to visit him that evening but at that moment my Mother told me how much of a blessing I had been to the both of them as a son and how my Father loved me very much. She reach across the table and held my hands as the both of us observed the tears rolling down each others faces as I realized what her sentiments meant.

She and I stood up from around the table and embraced tight as I once again became that little boy who came in from outside crying because I had scraped my knee to the point of breathing. Oh the comfort of a Mother’s embrace at such a crucial time. We now both cried in each others arms as I thanked her for breaking the news of my Father’s passing in such a calm soothing considerate and tactful manner. At that very moment I thought to myself how ironic it was to have such a beautiful soul of a Mother in my life that could have the presence of mind and the foresight to know how to handle breaking the news of losing one of your parents in such a loving way.

She told afterward that he had slipped into a coma and “crossed over” but he rededicated his heart to Christ before he lost consciousness and held her hand tightly as he did. Imagine being in the position that you know that you know that you have to break the news to someone of something so traumatic? How many people do we know in our lives who would have been so considerate of another persons feelings no matter who they were? Having the tact to deliver such news in such a smooth manner speaks volumes on what type of woman my Mother was.

There are so many aspects to being a Lady in this world and our men haven’t a clue overall on what to look for as far as the qualities in a woman when choosing a mate. It’s moments such as those that made me to know that I had to look deeper when finding that one person for me. It’s not about the hairstyle. It’s not about how round and sexy the ass is. It’s not about any of the acrobatics that ANYONE can perform in the bedroom. It’s really all about your loving heart and the class and culture that one possesses inside!

It could have been much different if my Father choose a mate based only on the carnal. Imagine that? Imagine if my Mother was some old hoochie who spent her early years living up in the club or the bar and got caught up with someone and had a baby that was unplanned for and got together with him only because she was getting older and “it was time” now to settle down because “I ain’t getting any younger!”

Imagine if my Father was stupid enough to get caught up with a woman like that? If he did, the breaking of the news of my Father’s passing would have gone much different! Maybe when I went to visit her she would have come out all ignorant and said: “Yo Daddy died. Don’t be crying now ’cause I don’t want to hear that shit! Be a man goddammit! No let’s get ready to go to the insurance man to collect on that fat insurance policy that we had on him and let’s find us the cheapest casket to stuff him in the ground with then let’s go to the Lexus dealership!”

See how making the proper choice makes so much of a difference in those crucial life situations?

If my Mother was that kind of woman then I could only imagine seeing all kinds of strange “uncles” who I never knew before coming around to see “what’s up!” a potential MESS! So I will publicly thank BOTH of my parents for the absolutely wonderful childhood that they have afforded me and the lessons in life that they took the time to expose me to as well as being such a textbook example on the art of etiquette and that elusive rare trait called tact.

Flash forward to April of 1994, on a lunch break from my night job at the Home Depot, I came home to my Mother to see how she was doing, she had a stroke the year before and although she was walking about with ease with no limited mobility in her limbs as is usually the case, the stroke did take her ability to speak fluently. Remember, she was a singer and took pride in her ability to express herself intelligently in her silky smooth voice that would captivate everyone around her upon hearing it.

I had only about thirty minutes or so out of the lunch hour but something told me that I had to be with her for a little while. She was upbeat but I knew that there was something on her heart that she wanted to tell me. She then apologized to me for putting the responsibility of taking care of her on me and I told her to stop talking like that because THAT was my duty as a son! Especially since she and my Father provided me with so much as well as the spiritual depth and awareness to make it in this challenging life.

I told her while other children were given many materialistic goods growing up, I receive the fruits of the spirit and that was even more valuable to me on a personal level. It was a pleasure to take care of her and give her whatever she wanted and needed. That was my Mother and will always be my Mother. The time was near for me to return to work but she told me how much she appreciated me as a son and that I made her proud as a Mother and she thanked me. We both looked into each others eyes and watched the tears stream down both of our faces as we embraced each other so tight. I didn’t want to leave because we both knew what this moment meant.

I told her how wonderful a Mother she has been and that if I never ever get another blessing in my life again that the mere fact that SHE was my Mother is a blessing that would last an eternity!

She smiled a very happy smile as the tears still streamed, she told me to go on back to work and that she will be alright now that she knew how I felt. I turned against my wishes to stay and got back in my car to go back to work.

As I pulled into the parking lot at work I didn’t even bother to stop crying although the drizzle from the rain masked my tears. As I entered the locker room of the store I was paged over the speaker system that I had an urgent call. I ran swiftly to the nearest phone and was connected to my then fiance’ Veronica (Who was there with my Mother helping me to take care of her) called to tell me that she had to call an ambulance because my Mother was not responsive and fell to the floor in her room next to the bed.

I cried so hysterically as I left the job and sped home in record time actually beating the ambulance there!

I held my Mother tight until they got there and said so many things to her and do not know if I made any sense. I hurt so bad and would never want anyone to feel this type of pain. The ambulance came and I rode with them to Jamaica Hospital where she was discovered to be brain dead and put on a breathing machine (Sorry, I don’t know the proper name for it!) where she was kept alive for about a week until I had to make the hardest decision of my life…….

She didn’t have a chance to come back physically. Why keep her soul trapped here for my own selfish sentimental reasons when my father was free as she should be?

Hopefully, the tact that she so wonderfully displayed in this life is something that I’ve inherited so that I too can continue a legacy of class, culture and tact.

Thank you all for listening to my story and I hope that you received something from it. You all know that I love you.

Peace

LanceScurv

Share

About The Author

Culture Critic, Podcast Host, Blogger, Cartoonist & Social Media Activist who focuses on the issues that the Mainstream Media is deathly afraid to touch! Call/Text Direct: 407.590.0755

Related posts

LanceScurv: Bold, Raw & Uncut!
Click here to connect!