My mom and I still get to do the simple things together. We talk most days, and this Mother’s Day, we’re celebrating at her restaurant of choice—Bojangles. It’s our way. No fanfare, just time together. And we get to share another beautiful Spring.
When I look back on my mom’s life, I see a little girl growing up in a two-room house with three brothers, my Granny, and Papaw. It was the 1950s—bobby socks were in style, Elvis was new on the radio, and she was the skating rink queen. Her daddy called her “Dolly Doll.”
She met my father in high school. I still remember their prom pictures—his crew cut, her grace. Like something out of Back to the Future. And in those old photographs, it’s easy to imagine myself waiting just off camera, not far from arriving.
Her first child, my sister Debra Kaye, never made it into this world. A quiet heartbreak that lives on. But not long after, I came along—met with overwhelming joy. And what followed was a good childhood, filled with love.
I watched my mom leave behind her small-town beginnings to work in the big city of Nashville. She was barely five feet tall and soft-spoken, but to me, she looked like Mary Tyler Moore heading off to conquer downtown. She landed a job at Pennsylvania Life Insurance. In the 1970s, that took courage—women couldn’t even get a credit card in their own name until 1974. But she showed up, every day, and carved out her place in the world.
Now that I’ve lived enough life to look back, I ask myself: what did I learn from my mother? The answer is easy. Grit. My brother would say the same.
She has beautiful eyes. She loved lying in the sun, water skiing on weekends with my dad, listening to the radio, and raising her boys to love life. But when she started something, she finished it. She never gave up on what mattered.
Her gift to me has helped shape both my success and sorrows.
My dad used to say, “A mother’s love is like no other.” And he was right. My mom still tells me every day that she loves me—and of all the things I’ve come to know as true, that remains one of the deepest.
Here’s to her. And here’s to all mothers who give life—and live it boldly.