Mom's Birthday

If my Mother were still alive, she'd be 92 years old today, and that just doesn't seem possible.  It is true, however, even if my mind doesn't want to stretch time back that far.  Dad would turn 90 in March.  It just doesn't seem right, somehow.  I can easily accept the fact that I'm 56, heading for 57 now; but Mom and Dad being that age? No way!  My first real recollection of their faces comes from when I was four years old and we were living in Kingsville, Texas; Dad was still in the Navy, and every two weeks he took Kathy, my sister, and I to ride horseback at King's Ranch Livery stable.  Kathy rode a beautiful bay mare named Cricket, and I rode an old-timer whose name was White Cloud.  Kathy and the other kids would walk, jog and lope around this huge field - since I was so small, and was sitting on a 16-hand horse, White Cloud just sort of ambled about - he went where I wanted to go, because I knew about reining, and he was an old cow horse, but we walked slowly. Everywhere.  We just walked.  One day, I caught White Cloud in the flank with a corn stalk, and he crow hopped a little bit.  I was ecstatic!  We had done something other than walk! I looked back toward my parents, and Mom's face was blue-white, while Dad was laughing hard with a red face.  Mom was scared that I'd fall off, and Dad was laughing because I was laughing. ....
   Mom gave me life, and taught me to love books and reading.  She inspired me with tales of hardship of early Chincoteaguers, and things she could easily remember, as the Island was so isolated.  She planted the seed for love of knowledge of the past, for the love of art work and creative sewing.  She was never an epicurean, but she definitely taught me how to cook and bake.  I was always amazed to hear what simple, small things brought her pleasure when she was a child - and now I find that I find those same things endearing and heart-warming.  Mom taught me to love totally, and to forgive those that hurt me, and to give as generously as I am able to good causes and things I believe in.
  Here's to Mildred Louise Johnson Nocks, a woman who was good, in every sense of the word.