I’ve waited all my life to dedicate a book to Mom and now I can without fear of retribution. Assuming, of course, she can’t curse me from the grave. One thing about Mom, you always knew what she was thinking—whether you wanted to know or not.
You also knew you were loved.
A year or so ago Mom was on her way to the hairdresser when another driver ran a stop sign and smashed into her Buick. Mom got out, inspected the damage, and exchanged insurance information with the other driver. While waiting for the police to arrive, Mom popped the trunk and motioned the other woman to the rear of her LeSabre.
“My son’s a writer,” Mom announced, “and I’ve got some of his books. Do you want a copy?” I wasn’t at the crash site, but knowing Mom, I imagine the inflection in her voice and order of words was probably more like: “You do want a copy of my son’s book, right?” I’m almost certain of this because the woman bought one copy of my book and a church recipe book. I bet the woman doesn’t even cook or have kids.
But that was Mom. Always hawking my books and asking me how my writing was going. She worried constantly I wouldn’t make enough as a writer to support my family. I kept telling her our daily provision is God’s business; mine was to be obedient and write stories that reflect His truths.
Last year I lost my biggest fan and best salesperson, but God gained a worthy assistant for the running of His kingdom. I can’t imagine how God thinks He’ll remain in charge now.
The last thing Mom told me was, “I’m not as young as I used to be, son. You need to think about your old mom once in a while and come see me.”
I will Mom. Someday I will.
If you’re blessed enough to still have your mom around, give her a hug and whisper, “Love you Mom.” Trust me, it’s the best and cheapest gift there is.
Love you Mom. I miss you. – EJ
The Skull Creek Stakeout (The Caden Chronicles) Coming in August of 2013