My Mama Didn’t Graduate on Time

Little things I learn about my mom through the simplest of conversations can be my biggest lessons in life. A random afternoon conversation while I was traveling from one job to the next diverted from talk about the weekend to the statement, “Did I ever tell you I didn’t graduate from college on time?”

“Huh. What?” was my reaction, but I held it in as my sweet, almost 70-year-old earthly inspiration told me the interestingly, funny tale of how a beloved professor her senior year, who had entrusted my Mama to teach her Shorthand Class (Google it) in her absence, and often used her as a representative, gave her a “D” resulting in my Mama’s inability to graduate with the Alabama State University Class of 1968. I listened as my Mama told me how she tried her best to sway the teacher into a better grade. Not only did this professor give her a big, fat D, she and the college leader turned down the smooth talkings of my grandfather as he tried to convince them through subtle name dropping to graduate his oldest daughter. They both succeeded in being unsuccessful.

On the verge of truly feeling sorry for the 20-something year old who must have been devastated and embarrassed to no end by not graduating on time, my flirtation with pity on her was quickly interrupted by her sweet, reassuring voice and the confident phrase, “Oh well! Everything worked together for the good of those who love the Lord! It all worked out for me. Had I graduated on time I wouldn’t have gotten that GREAT government job that ASU selected me to work for in Federal Court that year. At my Daddy’s advice I finished the retake of the course I got a D in. I was assigned to do student teaching in the great Robert E. Lee High School and my teacher, Ms. Dixie Hicks ADORED ME. She got married and recommended me as her replacement… and I got your Daddy. The rest is history!”

And just like that, I was served up a mighty lesson from a seasoned teacher in the classroom and in life.

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  • Oh well!(That pretty much sums up a lot of things which hurt, but will end up helping.)
  • Father knows best.
  • Things don’t always turn out the way we want them to. (They often turn out better.)
  • Sometimes an A, B, or C can’t compete with a new career. (Regardless of a D.) (And by the way, guess who wrote her recommendation for the job…yep, the professor:))
  • The thing you think you fail at will be used to help others. (My Mama went on to teach Shorthand (Google it again) to high school students for decades. Like literally, decades.)
  • Sometimes a Bae or a Boo end up lasting MUCH longer than an A, B, or C, and certainly the sting of an ill-fated D. (My parents are officially 46 years married in June 2016, still hold hands and still go out on diabetes-approved hot dates!) (Ha! Take that D!)

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@AngelaMMoore316

Mama’s Cooking

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Mama’s Cooking

The words any child wants to hear from a Mama (who can cook) is “Come on over. I’m cooking.” The most recent Sunday supper my family enjoyed was extra-special because it had been three months or more since we’d gotten together as a family for a home cooked, southern Mama made meal.

On a rainy President’s Day 2016, an in-home accident changed my family’s otherwise normal routine and my Daddy’s life. Needless to say, with weeks of his hospitalization and drastic changes upon his discharge like dietary adjustments, therapy, doctor’s appointments, more than one dozens medications, limited mobility and around-the-clock watching we’d not gathered together for a meal made by Mama in far too long as she rightfully shifted her entire focus to taking care of husband. As my Daddy literally walks the path through to continued healing I had sort of settled in my mind that it’d likely be around the 4th of July or beyond before we gathered for some of our renowned family festivities. I would joke with my Mama in the weeks following my Daddy’s release from the hospital as she bragged on the healthy meals she’d prepared for them fitting to his new food way of life. In jest, but a bit serious, I would say how they could have at least invited us to eat the carb-counted, sugar-less, salt-reduced, same-time-a-day meals, which she would tout as “delicious”, and I believe had grown to appreciate them as a “date”. When life happens, it’s often the little things which mean so much that we missed the most. I’d missed my Mama’s cooking. So when the call came about a Sunday supper I did a little jig on the inside.

In no way doing it justice, take a peek at the picture of my Mama and quickly snapped pictures representing her reintroduction to the world as Best Cooking Mama in Maylene, Alabama! The grilled steak, fried pork chops, sweet potatoes, baked potatoes, black eyed peas, fried okra, brocolli, corn on the cob, and apple pie crumble were perfect. Even more perfect was the return to the routine which is my family. @AngelaMMoore316

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