Daffydowndilly…do the next thing, whatever the next thing is…

Daffodils, my mother’s favorite flower, she would call them daffydowndillies, I would wait until the florist would get daffs in from Ireland and fill vases of Irish daffodils for mom. My heart still catches when I find a bunch from Ireland.  Mom’s birthday is coming up soon and she is much on my mind, especially this time of year. She and I would take long walks around the farm when I was little and look for signs of spring.  We would look every year for the elusive jack-in-the pulpits; she wove a magical world of fairies and gnomes for me.

This time of year also reminds me of her cancer treatments. She was tired from treatments, she had to go everyday for weeks and she did so very bravely, but they left her drained. I remember one morning she was still tucked in bed, chatting to someone on the phone. I couldn’t hear her as I was busy gathering clothes and bathing items. Unbeknownst to me she had just shared with her phone companion that she was going to stay tucked in bed and not get up, I was merrily coming down the hall, arms full, ready to start the day.  This is what I heard

her say “never mind about staying in bed, the little general is here, guess I will be getting up.” She called me her “little general” and “velvet covered steel”  with much affection. I coaxed, cajoled, teased, whatever it took to help her get up and get dressed. Poor, tired little bird…but it was the only thing I knew and she herself had taught me…do the next thing, whatever the next thing is…and so we freshened up, got dressed…even down to her little sneakers. I  remember tying them for her, she would always tell me “not too tight”….and started the day. Even taking care of her  little dog who ate most of her breakfast and drove us to distraction, Frosty was mom’s final joke on us, she died and left him with us.

Your little general is so tired now mom, I don’t have half the fight in me that I used to, and the velvet has all worn off and frayed, revealing not steel, but a much weaker metal, worn and thin, jagged and scraped.  I think of you and marvel at how you stayed in the fight, despite the odds, you came to embrace peace despite your many heartaches.

I remember the week dad was in the hospital, right before he died, you not only were working at Westinghouse, but you made a wedding cake for a couple from Westinghouse with hundreds of hand piped daisies, intricate hand work. I remember you calling the groom during the chaos of dad dying at home that Saturday morning…watching the groom coming to pick up the cake that you had finished…always wondering how they got that five tiered beauty to the reception.

I remember my wedding. You made my cake too, 5 or 6 layers, lots of flowers, make my 8 foot lace veil, made my matron-of-h0nor’s dress…hosted a

party at the house…yeah and I seem to remember you having to do alternations the morning of the wedding. Never occurred to me that you couldn’t do it, you were mom, you could do anything. From creating beautiful works of art to putting a fussy baby asleep, to rounding up cattle in your VW bug, you never gave up. Do you know that folks actually told me that I shouldn’t let you rock the boys to sleep every night, they told me that they would never learn to go to sleep…hahaha…what they learned was that they were loved and treasured.  I hope that somewhere in their memories they remember the Irish and Scottish lullabies you sang to them.

I also remember one of your favorite scripture verses….

I lift my eyes to the hills.

From whence does my help come?

My help comes from the Lord,

who made heaven and earth.

Psalm 121:1-2

The rest of the psalmist continued with …

He will not let your foot be moved, he who keeps you will not slumber.

Behold, he who keeps Israel will neither slumber nor sleep.

The Lord is your keeper;

the Lord is your shade on your right hand.

The sun shall not smite you by day,

nor the moon by night.

The Lord will keep you from all evil;

he will keep your life.

The Lord will keep your going out and your coming in from this time forth and for evermore.

The above psalm was a blessing given to someone embarking on a dangerous journey, whether a soldier going on a campaign or a pilgrim returning home from the temple. We are both soldiers and pilgrims and life is a dangerous journey, you knew that well didn’t you Doris Claire, knew it and chose to fight, for you also knew where your help and strength cometh.  Peace to you little daffydowndilly, grateful that you and dad were there to welcome the boy home.