Mother's Day

With Mother's Day approaching, it's time for all us pholks to take “a time out” to simply reflect on the most important person in each of our lives.

No matter the circumstances or the amount of time which has passed, every one of us has a mother. My mom passed away about 10 years ago but certainly she will never be forgotten.

I bring this up because it seems like too many pholks have lost the significance of the day. Are we too lost in either having a party, barbequing, celebrating a spring day and handing mother's, grandmothers, daughters, and wives cards and maybe a little gift or going out for a nice meal?

We honor our wives, be they mothers or not, and it's usually a great day, a reason to have a wonderful Sunday after a special church sermon.

But how often do we fail to stop and really contemplate throughout the year how much our mother really means or has meant to us? My mother wasn't prefect and never pretended to be. I don't know of any mother who could honestly qualify for being flawless. My mother didn't have any perfect sons, but my brother and I turned out pretty fair. Mom and dad didn't have it easy but they weren't short on hard work, dedication and instilling the important things in life to their sons.

My mother was short, smart enough to go to Stanford to study nursing for a time before she and dad got married. She was pretty good in high school sports, had a great memory even to her last days and, as some say, not a person to have her mind changed. Her heart was big and her inspiration ever-lasting. I miss my mom.

She was inquisitive; always having to know what was going on, one of the qualities I seemed to have inherited. It is a good trait for a journalist to have. My memory is good but my organizational skills, which my mother also lacked in some areas, also were part of what I received. I ended up being nearly four inches taller than my mother.

So pholks, as we approach the upcoming Mother's Day weekend, why not take a break from planning that barbecue, making sure all the napkins on the picnic table match and the floral arrangements are just right, the grandkids have clean fingernails and the greeting card, containing a verse someone else wrote, is just right.

Let's just stop, think, remember and smile. Your mother and mine would like that.

REMEMBER, HOW MANY TIMES we hear “Boy it sure is a small world, isn't it?”

The other evening after work I was enjoying my diet soda at the Lamp Liter Lounge just relaxing and catching up on anything interesting which might have occurred that day before heading home to catch “Jeopardy.” Then another one of those “small world” incidents unfolded.

A stranger sat two chairs from mine and soon we discussed the weird weather. He had been on a long sales trip and was concerned that the Grapevine might be closing possibly delaying his trip t home to Southern California.

Along came another guy who joined in the discussion. He was from the Bay Area and also on a sales mission to Tulare County. He reported on his trip to the Valley and recent weather encounters. He has been to the Lamp Liter several times during the World Ag Expo. When guy number two asked guy number one, what he did, guy number one said, “I sell pumps.”

Guy number two said, “I sell pumps too.” Guy number one then introduced himself as “Jeff”. Guy number two, said, “My name is Jeff.”

Jeff and Jeff aren't connected with competing firms nor do they service the same clientele but they soon discovered they know a lot of the same people in the industry. What followed was a 20-minute discussion well out of my realm.

I didn't have to pump them for information, which of course was well over my head but the conversation just flowed. I won't go any deeper. It was just another small world encounter.