I grew up sitting next to my mom on Sunday mornings at First Baptist Church of Mentone, IN. Our roots ran deep at First Baptist. Both my dad and mom grew up in the brick church with beautiful two story stained glass windows. My Uncle Jim would walk up to the pulpit on Sunday mornings, prompting us to grab the hymnal from the back of the pew in front of us. He would call out a page number, invite us to stand and he would lead us in a hymn with the piano and organ playing along. My dad would sing the bass line and my mom would sing the alto line. My mom's voice was strong and pure, no vibrato. I would stand next to her and attempt to sing the melody but would often slip into the alto. I now hear harmonies before I hear the melody.
Bobbie Jane Eaton was the living example of a country house wife. There were pancakes and bacon for breakfast, sandwiches for lunch, meat and potatoes for dinner. Her days consisted of rising early, prepping food for the day, studying her Bible, working the yard and garden, cleaning the house, running errands, feeding the family, working the family business, and all the other things running a home required. She played the supporting wife and stay-at-home mom role beautifully. Many didn't know was she was a gifted artist and deeply creative. She had a thirst for knowledge and a sharp mind. When dad came home after a difficult meeting at work or at church, he would sit with mom ask her advice. We all leaned on her. She was our safe place.
Mom had her teaching degree and spent the early years of their marriage as a fourth grade teacher. Once my brother was born, she decided to quit her job and stay home to raise the family. Mom would tell me the story about the day she knew she wouldn't go back to work. I'm not sure how old my brothers were at this time, but she and dad had been discussing whether or not she should go back to teaching. Then one day my oldest brother came through the door after school and called out for her. Mom came out to see what he wanted and he responded, "Oh I didn't need anything, I just wanted to know you were here." She said at that moment she knew she wasn't going back to work.
We were always first. Dad was always first. She never sang the melody, always the alto.
The time had come for the parent/child role reversal and as difficult as that can be for everyone involved I was ready. She had faithfully taken care of us all her life and she would be able to see all that I had learned from her;
Love God and serve Him first
Love your husband and serve him
Love your family and serve them
Love your church and serve them
Love your friends and serve them
Love your community and serve them
Love, serve... repeat. Love, serve...repeat
And then mom came to live with us-newly widowed, worn out body, dementia ridden mind. She was tired and mourning and needing to be cared for. We cared for her. We loved her. We served her. And still she loved us more, served us more. Love, serve...repeat.
The first Sunday she went to church with us we sang, "How Great Thou Art." Suddenly, I'm eight years old standing next to my mom at First Baptist Church. For three precious months I stood in church next to my mom and heard her sing. Her voice left three weeks ago. We still stand to sing on Sundays. I now sing the alto, not as confident and strongly as she did, but I'm trying.
8 comments:
So, so beautiful. Suzanne❣️ Thank you for sharing a special part of your life and a glimpse into your precious mother’s life. You are blessed to have a mother like her.. and I see yin following in her footsteps..Love, serve, repeat. That’s who you are💕🙏♥️
Suzanne, Beautifully written. What special memories you have of your sweet Mother with such a lovely smile. You are very blessed to have had her an example of a woman of God.as you learned from her.
What a beautiful tribute to your precious mom! I have never met such a lady as she was. So sacrificing and serving. I am so blessed to have called her my dear friend. We had the best if the best times together for so many years- 64 of them. You are so much like her with your gentle spirit. Thank you for taking such good care of your mom the last days of her life here on earth.
Carol Osborn wrote the above
Beautiful. Sad yet so poignant.
Absolutely terrific tribute to your mother. I can vouch for her ability to sing as I was in choir with her. On one occasion we were suppose to stand and sing by our mates rather than our choral section. I moved to the place looking down to be sure I didn’t trip. Once there I sang and then glanced over to Aunt Jan but to my embarrassment I was standing next to your mother. I don’t know where your father was. I wondered if the congregation could tell how red my face was from where they were seated?
Uncle Ron
Your mom and dad were our youth leaders at the Baptist Church. She was always smiling and had such a wonderful laugh.
Your father and I worked together at the Mentone Elementary School. And was such a tease.
I loved them both. You had two of the best parents. Love you sweetheart!
That was beautiful. My own mother is in the midst of fighting cancer. Your words are magic. Thank you for sharing your strength with a lonely soul. You are good people madam.
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