Go get em’ Tiger!” That was the extent of my mom’s motivational speeches before my sporting events. It did not matter if I was playing a pee wee football game or the Texas Longhorns in a college baseball game.

Her approach was always the same, just “go get em’.”

Too many times I treated my mom based on how I played. Today, I regret the actions of an immature kid who needed to grow up.

Regardless, my mom was always there to give me a little squeeze after every game. That little squeeze spoke volumes; sometimes it would say, “way to go,” other times it would say “hang in there.”

God threw us all a huge curve ball in 1992 when Cancer snatched away one of the world’s finest at the young age of fifty-seven. I turned sixty last November and the joy I’ve experienced since I was fifty-seven has been immense. Grandkids, marriages, family gatherings – all the good stuff in life. My mom missed out on so much, but maybe heaven is worth it? I’d rather she’d be here though.

She lost an eye to Ocular Melanoma twelve years before her death. I never knew she had cancer at that time because she never talked about it. Did not want us to worry.

What an awesome grandma my boys missed out on, what a wonderful source of happiness so many lived without because my mom was no longer around. To this day her death makes no sense to me and never will.

People say it is impossible to be in more than one place at the same time. My mom was the only human on earth who could pull that off. It’s still a mystery to me how she got us all to little league practice, newspapers rolled and thrown for my paper route, cooked dinner without a microwave, chased the dog – all in the same day.

She possessed an internal tracking device that enabled her to find cleats, gloves, belts, caps, jerseys, and athletic cups that nobody else could find.

My mom was consistent with her love. I only wish I could have been as consistent toward her. She never let issues she was dealing with interfere with putting her kids first. She had a generational influence on her children, and she did it ever so quietly.

I don’t think about her every day, sometimes weeks will go by without her crossing my mind. But out of nowhere her memory appears, and it saddens me for a moment.

The best parts of me are from her, and I hope that I have made her proud. My mom was the personification of unconditional love, and her brisket was, and still is, the best I’ve ever eaten.

5 THINGS MY MOM TAUGHT ME

• Be kind to others.

I watched my mom calm everything around her through kindness. When things began to get heated, she would pour kindness on the coals and cool everything down. She never repaid hate with hate, or anger with anger. Her response was always in love whether deserved or not.

• Be there whenever you possibly can.

Mom rarely missed a game, school play, recital, birthday, or any other special occasion. It did not matter what, when or where. If her children or grandchildren were involved, she was there with her video camera catching every moment.

• Family first.

Every holiday and birthday was a special occasion. Girlfriends and boyfriends were welcomed with unconditional love. She loved to see her family grow and made

everyone feel like they belonged. She handmade the most incredible birthday cakes and planned the best parties.

• Life is short.

My mom did not necessarily teach me life is short, but since her death, the years have flown by. I remember going around the room with a video camera on Christmas Eve 1991 asking each family member what they wanted for Christmas. Mom smiled and said with enthusiasm, “One more year!” Mom died 5 months later.

• God is Good

Mom never cursed, lied, drank, smoked, or cheated; she truly was a saint. I hope heaven is worth it, because she missed a bunch of great family time here on earth. I still have a hard time understanding why God wouldn’t choose to leave someone like her with her family for as long as possible. She loved God and taught her children to do the same. She would always say, “Life is fragile, handle with prayer.”

I had the most precious of all gifts, a loving mother.

I miss you Mom, Happy Mother’s Day.

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Todd Howey is a columnist for BrownwoodNews.com whose articles appear on Fridays. Email comments to [email protected].