I Am THAT Mom

I am THAT Mom and I'm not apologizing. I care about what my children, albeit they are adults, do. I surrender to the fact that I no longer have control over their comings and goings, the decisions they make, or anything else major they choose to do with their lives. But I always have been and always will be THAT Mom.

Perfect example is the other evening, Tara calls me and, in the middle of our call, she stops to inquire of a motorist on their oil slick road, whose car is disabled. Did they need help and, if so, her husband was right down the road and he'd come and help them. That was an admirable thing for her to do; the neighborly thing and, as she described it to me, the motorist and his wife were an "old couple" and their tire was shredded. As it turned out, they had already called for assistance and, therefore, Tara went on her way home. I'm proud of her for never turning her back and I do give her credit for being careful and aware of her surroundings. But, in those few minutes that always happen when she and I are having a phone conversation and we're cut off because of lack of service, my imagination runs wild. All kinds of wicked scenarios run through my head, i.e., the old couple were "plants" and some thug is now trying to wrestle my daughter out of her vehicle into his and she's going to be a "missing persons" report. My next move is to wait the appropriate amount of time which, in my books, is about 5 minutes, then call the house to make sure she made it home safe and sound. I brace myself for the usual annoyance I know I'm going to be greeted with as she answers the phone and assures me she is home and all is well. To her, my insecurities about her well-being are a pain in her rear; to me, even the sound of her exasperated voice is music to my ears.

I have the same fears for Troy, my son. His former job had him traveling so much by air and, when I had knowledge of where he would be taking off and landing, I tracked those flights, online. Yes, I am THAT Mom. Just because Troy is a grown man, doesn't mean, in this mother's mind, he couldn't also fall prey to the miscreants who lurk in dark corners, waiting for travelers such as he, in hopes of relieving him of his laptop, phone, credit cards; all those things that seem to have street value which, in the dark world where criminals live, have more value than human life.

Just to make it clear, I'm not just obsessive about the safety of my children and grandchildren. Donn has also fallen victim to my worries about him. He got a major tongue-lashing for, of all things, not having his cell phone on vibrate in his pocket, when he was outside doing yard work. I couldn't fault him for spending 10 hours in the yard, doing fall clean-up by blowing leaves in to the woods. What I did chastise him for was the fact that we're not as young as we used to be and "things" happen when we exert ourselves, lose track of time and don't bother to stop for food or even a drink of water. What would it matter if the leaves were chest deep on the lawn, but Donn had passed out, or worse, and was on the side of the yard, near the woods where no one would see him? Let it be said, he never ventures out of the house without his cell phone and my knowing where he is.

To be clear and fair, to me, though, let it be said that when my kids lived at home, I didn't have them on a tether. They had a fair amount of freedom to come and go and I trusted them to use their common sense and good judgment, which they did. I only asked that 1) I knew where they were going, and 2) they gave a call when they were headed home, so I (we) knew when to expect them. Both Tara and Troy were very good about that, understanding that my sleep wasn't going to be disturbed by the courtesy "I'm on my way home" phone call, because I wasn't going to be asleep until I heard the front door open and knew they were safely inside. Donn is still amazed by the fact that I could hear their cars approach 1/4 mile away from home. As recent as Troy's latest trip home and he was driving a rental car that I was not familiar with...I knew when he was within 500 feet of our driveway. I guess I have highly advanced "Momdar" (Mom +Radar+Momdar).

Today, my task is to keep track of my granddaughter, Piper Kate, as she flies, unaccompanied, from Detroit to Denver. I don't know what airline she's flying, but I know she's due in about 8:30 in the evening. With the help of the internet, I'll be able to find out what flight she's on, track it and be the wind beneath it's wings. Whatever it takes...I'll get it done!

Am I the definitive "needy" woman? If that means do I need to love and care for all that I have been blessed with then, yes, I am needy. If I didn't have my husband, children, grandchildren, family and friends to love, then what would I be? I define myself by the love I have to give.

I'm assuming I'm not that much different from any of the other Mom's I know. Well, maybe I'm a little more towards the OCD end of the spectrum, but I feel I share the same hopes and fears as the rest of my friends. My children were gifts to me at their births and I was charged with raising them with unconditional love, guiding and directing them so they could make good moral choices throughout their lives, and keeping them safe and sound as they moved out into the world to make their way on their own. Just because they are grown, with families of their own, doesn't mean my responsibilities end. The unconditional love I have for them is pure; it will never end. If they should ask for guidance and direction, then I will always be there to help them find the answers they seek. As for keeping them safe and sound, I can't do much about that. Trust, though, that every day, via my love and spirit, I walk, fly, drive and run every step with them and if there is evil in their path, it will have to get past me before it gets to my child, because I'm THAT Mom and will not apologize for who I am.

Congratulations Tara and Shawn

On November 8, 2008, our daughter, Tara and her love, Shawn Hanna, became husband and wife. This year, on their 2nd anniversary, they can look back at the whirlwind the past 24 months of their marriage has been.



When they married, they became a blended family, as Piper became part of not only the Hanna family, but an extended family that includes most, if not all of the good citizens of Arthur, NE. The small town with the huge heart that became her new home. Five days before they celebrated their 1st anniversary, their son, Sage Dean, made his entrance, 6 weeks early. Tiny, beautiful, feisty and strong, by his arrival, this little man closed the circle between the Hanna and deBeauclair families, making us one.



Not that having a newborn and a 7 year old, while learning the ropes of being a ranch family wasn't enough excitement for them, they soon learned that another little boy was on the way and would be here before Sage was even a year old. He would become the big brother at age 11 months. Brannon Garnet made his debut, a strong and healthy little guy, on September 21st and Tara and Shawn declared their family complete.



So, today, as they look back on the first 2 years of their marriage, if they even have time to look back, they should be proud of all they've accomplished and how far they've come. Their inner family circle is complete with their 3 children. They not only work together as parents, but are partners in the working of the cattle ranch which is their livelihood.



Donn and I couldn't be more proud of them. We can look at our daughter, Tara, and know that we did it right. She has become everything we hoped for her. Strong, independent, hard-working, loving, compassionate, funny, and generous with her time, energy, heart and soul. Shawn is an exemplary man, with an unmatched work ethic, and a devotion to his family that is unquestioning. Everyday, he gives his all to take care of those he loves. Tara,Shawn, Piper, Sage and Brannon are the definition of the word "family".



Happy Anniversary, kids. We can't wait to see what the coming years are going to be like for you and yours.

Why We Do What We Do

Recently, our grown children seem to wonder why Donn and I do some of the things we have been doing. From the colors we chose for painting our house, our decision to revisit the dog show circuit with our smooth collie, Bella, and our discussions about possibly becoming RV folks who travel from place to place, towing all our worldly belongings in a trailer, hooked to a truck.

We both find it interesting that, as parents, we tried to give our kids enough room to make some pretty important decisions for themselves. They did come to us for guidance; we were confident that we'd given them a strong moral foundation and, they then went down whatever path they chose. Of course, they knew that, no matter the outcome of their decisions, good or bad, happy or sad, we would be there for them. When they triumphed, we cheered. If they crumbled, we picked up the pieces. If the results of their endeavors were somewhere in between, then we laughed and cried all at the same time, standing firmly by their sides.

You hear about the role reversal that occurs as parents become older and unable to make sound decisions for themselves. Children have to step in and assume responsibility for the needs of their parents. Donn and I sense that our children are starting to become very protective of us. Not that we're ready to have them plan what assisted living facility we're going to end up in or any other decisions remotely close to that topic. It's rather sweet, honestly, that they now feel how we've felt about them throughout their lives. Keeping a watchful eye on us should we stray someplace we'd rather not be.

But, to the question of why we do what we do, the answer is simply this...it gives us a sense of belonging. We spent so many years where every decision we made was weighed against what was best for our children, first and foremost. What Donn and I wanted or needed never came into play if their needs/wants were greater. Then, all of a sudden, they are grown-ups, with careers, families, responsibiliites, and places of their own. We are no longer the Duke and Duchess of Parent Involvement.

Showing Bella has allowed us to reconnect with our very first mentor and friend, Maureen. Twenty-five years ago, we brought home our first collie, Merlyn, from one of Maureen's breedings. That began the journey into obedience and conformation dog shows, breeding and training collies, and the making of memories that will last forever in our hearts and the hearts of Tara and Troy. It's also opened the door to new friends, today, who share our love of the breed and we're having a ball being part of something again. We're looked upon as mentors, with knowledge and experiences to learn from. On the flip side, Donn and I enjoy being able to learn, from our younger friends, all those things that have changed since our heyday, if you will.

The RV thing? Well, there were discussions. Albeit they were brief, but there was an open dialogue between Donn and I. Did we come to an agreement? Only that I would entertain the thought of kind of sorta being able to spend some time traveling and living as a gypsy, as long as I had a home to go to at the end of our adventures. A home that my children, grandchildren, family and friends could call Mom and Dad's/Mimi and Papa's/Shari and Donn's home.

As to the decisions about the colors chosen for the remodeling of our house, well, those decisions are all mine. Donn is self-admittedly color blind and has deferred to me on all things. I've put a lot of thought into the choices I've made, weighed the alternatives, sought the advice of property professionals, threw my instincts into the mix and, unafraid, gone forward. That's been the best feeling. Not the decisions; the going forward. The being involved in something new, challenging, and exciting. It's a renewal, reconnection, and the beginning of something special. That's why we do what we do.

Enough is Enough

Who would have ever thought that, living in Michigan, anyone would say that we've had too much summer? Well, you're hearing it now, from me. The record books are reporting that May, June and July, 2010 have been the warmest months on record since they've been keeping track of the temperatures. Day after day, 89 degrees plus; humidy 80% plus; putting the heat index somewhere in the mid to high 90's.

I'm wondering if there's a study of how much weight people gain when the weather is too hot to cook? Let's be honest, here. I think a lot of us agree that it's easier to order pizza and breadsticks or, perhaps, drive through KFC and pick up a bucket and sides, take that home for the fam, as opposed to going home and preparing dinner. Even if you're going to grill outside, it still takes some prepping of the meat, sides and salad.

Sure, when we're buried in snow and ice in less than 90 days, we'll look back on these very warm temps and wish for just a few of them back. I'm thinking, I won't be overly anxious for fall, winter and the spring of 2011 to come and go. Until the leaves fall and the cold winds blow, I'm going to do what I've done everyday since May. Go through the bare minimum requirements of getting ready for work while in my house, then finishing up hair and makeup in my car in the driveway, with the air conditioning on. The dog days of summer are ruff, ruff.

For Those Who Serve, Home and Away

The following poems were written by my father, Russ Morrow. Because of his profession as a plumber, his country called him to serve in World War II, in the Pacific. He joined the "Fighting Sea Bees", as they were proudly referred to. He was a sailor, a husband, father of 5 at the time, separated from his family, doing his duty. I believe his thoughts have been on countless lips of soldiers through the years. The theaters of war have changed, but not the hearts and minds of those who serve.

GI Dew (c)

Twas in the month of February, the year, 1945.

A 1A classification was mailed to a father of five.

Now, he didn't take the Army, as you can plainly see.

He joined the working Sea Bees instead of the infantry.

Now they shipped him far away from home, to the Pacific Coast,

to work and drill almost alone, much too far from the ones he loved the most.

So, stop crying right away and sigh. I'l dry my tears like others do.

A lonesome sailor never cries, we only call it GI dew.

For Katherine (c)

If I remember right, a few years ago, I was 21, that's not old, you know.

I met a very pretty girl who was like a dream.

She was small, 5 feet tall, and sweet 18.

As I stood by the door, as young men sometimes do,

She looked to me like someone I'd always knew.

It was that lovely evening, when I first learned about romance,

as I boldly walked across the floor and asked her for a dance.

I'll never forget that special night;

her curling black hair and big brown eyes so bright.

Right then, I knew I was in love, with a sweet little girl from heaven above.

Now, it won't be heaven, again, for quite awhile, until this task is done.

So, cheer up now, let's see a smile. This war will soon be won.

Now, a GI's ife, without his wife and children is quite alone.

It's they who dream of a happier life, when their Daddy comes back home.

I'm not to blame, as some people say; it's not me who started this war.

And the others who are here, if they had their way, sure wouldn't be here anymore.

So, 5 foot tall and sweet 31, you're as brave as brave can be.

It won't be long until your battle is won, for you are fighting this war too, you see.

So, good-bye, my sweet, I love you so much, and our children by your side.

Our life will be guided by a Spritual touch, with Sweet Jesus as ur Guide.

The Dreamer (for Bobby) (c)

There's a sweet little boy, who wants to sleep. Come rest your head upon my cheek.

Now dream away, as a dreamer can, and Daddy will be your old Sand Man.

I know your dreams are like the other boys; ice cream, candy and lots of toys.

I wonder, sometimes, when you dream alone, if you sometimes wish your Daddy was home.

Oh, you're so young, you are only five. Quite a man, at that, for your size.

You're also a lover who never misses, cause you're my boy who delivers my kisses.

I'm also young and have dreams, too, and most of my dreams are about you.

Quite often, I dream of one or the other; sometimes of you, sometimes of your Mother.

So never wake my baby when he's fast asleep. He may be dreaming of something sweet.

Or, perhaps, he's dreaming of someone alone,

and probably wishing his Daddy was home.

So continue to dream, my little lover and pass your dreams on to your sister and brothers.

You're a pal of mine who never misses, and you're the one who delivers my kisses.

Go, wake him now, Mother, he's finished hisnap and tell him this story from your lap.

He'll listen to you, while you cuddle him close.

I bet he'll say "I love Daddy the most."

Sweet Jesus, above, don't make this war last.

Please guide them now as You have done in the past.

There's a little angel who dreams, though not alone.

He's dreaming that his Daddy will soon come home.

You gave him to us and soon we were parted.

Sometimes I wonder if he is broken hearted.

Please answer his prayers, like only You can do.

Then he'll always be happy, and I'll be happy, too.

A Salute to the Unknown Heroines (c)

(Mothers and Wives Who Work Alone)

If you could only be with me.

Your lovely face I yearn to see.

I see it now, as I look into space.

The features of your pretty face.

I suppose I'm selfish, when I'm blue, to ask a wife as true as you--

for you're sweet to me, it's plain to see, but I love you. Do you love me?

Forgive me, now, and don't you fret. Your loved one, here, will no forget.

Oh, I'm not crying just alone.

Others, too, have loved ones and are far from home.

When I took you, my little wife,

there was no war to mar our life.

You're a sweet little mother; I love you a lot.

I'm a lonesome sailor that hasn't forgot.

There's the baby, too, and his angel blows Taps,

as he dreams of sleeping in his Daddy's lap.

Oh, there's a lot more things that I cannot mention,

but, for now, dear one, Good Night, I must stand at attention.

When the war ended, my Dad returned to his family. He continued to serve in the Michigan National Guard, as a drill sergeant. I was born in 1950. His sons followed his lead; all 4 served in the military. Jim, in the Navy; Larry, Mick and Bob became Marines. Daddy passed away in 1992 and this year, on August 5th, we celebrate what would have been his 100th birthday.

I Remember

We all have mothers, past or present, otherwise we wouldn't be here. The influence they have on us is undeniable, be it positive, negative or somewhere in between. They are from all corners of the earth, every size, shape, color and age. So many different words of love, admiration, anger, indifference, joy, sadness describe them and, on any given day, all of the above in the same sentence.

My mother loved me, of that I am very sure, and I loved her. She passed away when she was 82 and I was 46 and, during those years, she nurtured, frustrated, mentored, mystified, encouraged, baffled, humored, angered me and it all began on the day she brought me into this world.

Always, she remembered me. I was never forgotten or an after-thought. Maybe all the attention paid to me began when she discovered she was pregnant and the anticipation of what I would be started. But, it's the remembering I hold on to, now that she is gone. She was there for every step taken, word said, song sung, dance danced, smile smiled, tear shed, and she remembered it all. The days, the seasons, the minutes, the moments and all the ups and downs in between. I'm certain no one will ever do that for me, the way she did in this life.

Mom and I shared so much and it saddens me that we were never able to share the woman I've become since she passed away. She never saw me as I worked through the unexpected surprises life threw my way courtesy of my children. She didn't see the look on my face as I held my newborn granddaughter for the first time; the tears of joy shed as I watched my husband walk our beautiful daughter down the aisle to begin her new life as a wife and mother; the pride on my face as my son walked across the stage to accept his diploma as a college graduate; the broken hearted helpless feelings experienced when my sister and brother passed away. I do believe, though, that wherever Mom is, on some level of spiritual connection, she knows of my life as I live it, day in and day out. I feel that she watches over me and my children and grandchildren.

I remember Katherine "Katie" Morrow today and every day. Without her, I wouldn't be here living and loving, and loving the life I live. I remember and will never forget.

Where Have My Choices Gone?

The past year has been rough on me, emotionally. I've had to deal with, essentially having all my choices taken away from me. I wanted/needed to work at least one more year at Dow Chemical to have a retirement that would be significant. The decision was made for me, via corporate down-sizing and, therefore, I have to make do with what I was given. The same thing happened to Donn and, so the choices and plans we had for our retirement were cruelly rearranged to be, not what we wanted, but what we were left with.

What sent me into a tail-spin today? I had to give Donn a haircut. We've sliced our budget to the bone and one of the things he opted out of for himself was going to Master Cuts for his hair and beard trims. This isn't the first trim I've given him. It was actually #3 and, contrary to popular opinion, the 3rd time was not the charm. His hair is a little more thin, OK, a lot thinner, behind his right ear than it is on his left. He's fine with it. Donn has so little ego it scares me sometimes but, in cases like this, I'm thankful for it. He won't even use a mirror to look at the back of his hair and, besides, it grows fast.

So, why the tears? It's because I think after you've worked your whole life in your career, did all the things you were supposed to do, followed the plan, to the letter, you shouldn't have to be in a position where your wife gives you haircuts so you look neat for your job at Walmart.