I Love My Parents!

My family members are some of the funniest people I know. My siblings are very bright. Not the scarily, odd acting kind of intellectual but very intelligent people. Collectively, we've been or are executives, a professor, a teacher, IT staff, a nurse, project managers and engineers. Not too bad of a brood for 2 Mississippians that came to the Midwest with literally nothing and one with only a 4th grade education.
My Dad is the ultimate survivor. Born in 1930, he had a pretty rough start as a baby. Got shuffled around a bit until he landed with an aunt and uncle. One of his teachers (Mrs. Beverly) came to our house years ago and basically explained that my Dad was the ultimate "hustler". He could somehow con the other kids into doing his chores for them and pay them pennies to do it. He was also known to be a bit of a prankster too.
My Dad enlisted into the Army and was shipped out 2 weeks after he married my Mom. "Sarge" (as he was called) was in and survived the Korean War, only to come back to a country that didn't really want him. In the 1950s, he was almost hung for just "speaking" to a young, white girl. This was such a serious event, my Dad had to leave his home town and to this day has never returned to live there.
When I hear my Dad talk about how life was in the 30's and 40's, it sometimes makes me cringe. He's had to order his food through the front door of a restaurant and then walk around to the back to get it or eat it. He's been called the "N" word, probably more times than I've ever spoken it in my life. He's had to pick cotton, beans (or whatever was in the field at the time) in the scorching hot sun. After moving to the Midwest with no vehicle, he either walked or ran to work. I was told that in order to get to work (because he had very little money), he would jog almost 10 miles to get downtown and then use his money to catch a bus. He jogged because he didn't have money to catch 2 buses a day and he now had a wife and children to feed at home. My Dad was a hard worker and if he didn't do anything, he always made sure we had a roof over our heads and food on the table.
My Mom...I call her the "bestest Mother in the WHOLE world" because she is. (No...for real. She really is.) My Mother has the happiest, kindest disposition. No matter when or where or at what age I was at the time, when I would see her, her eyes would light up as if she hadn't seen me in years and she has always greeted me with a big smile and a "Hi!!" To this day, she still greets me like that.
My Mom was the master cleaner, chef, playmate and disciplinarian. She was always firm and always kind. I sware my mother can get a stain out of anything. Thankfully, I take pride in inheriting that gift. My mother ALWAYS cooked the BEST food. To this day, there are things she makes that I can't seem to duplicate...but I keep trying. I told my Mom that I always remembered being in the kitchen with her. Her response was, "You were." My Mom knew I was curious about everything she was mixing or mashing and I was always asking a million questions. She never shunned me or pushed me out of the kitchen. She just let me watch and learn. I can recall Mom making, homemade carmel corn popcorn, homemade donuts, homemade peanut brittle, rice pudding, banana pudding, homemade ice cream and the list goes on. Little did I know the hog kidneys, tails, feet and brains were considered scraps by some. My Mom always made it taste SO good, I thought the kidneys were a treat. Those ingredients were always accompanied by rice, (some kind of) beans or cabbage. I can honestly say, I never went a day hungry. It may not have been the best food to eat but it was what we could afford and it never left me hungry.
I think our house was the cleanest one on the block. Our Saturdays were extremely regimented. I think "Sarge" (Dad) came up with the idea of the cleaning frenzy that happened every Saturday morning. It was just like being in the army. We might as well have been awakened to the sound of reveille! Being the youngest, I was always up earliest. I wanted to eat and watch cartoons, however, I would eat and then be chosen to wake up one of my sister's. This particular sister, woke up swingin'!
My Mom was not a martyr but she always seem to be the person to give the greater sacrifice. Back then a whole chicken could feed 8 people. I remember asking my Mother, "Why do you always eat the backs of the chicken?", her response was, "Because it's my favorite part." Years later, I realized it was not her favorite part. She chose to give the meatiest pieces to us. My Mom had one black coat and one black dress that she wore to church every single Sunday for a few years...and very rarely would she ever miss a Sunday. My oldest sister can recall my Mother's hair being in one long pony tail down her back. I wish I could have see that. I'm sure it was beautiful but because it required more shampoo to wash and cost twice as much to go to a salon, one day my Mother took a trip to the barber shop and got it all cut off. For years, I watched my mother eat everything from bacon to hard candy and I never knew she had no molars until a few years ago. Dentures were an expense she would never fathom, so she just went without. Now, we spoil her rotten. My siblings and I almost compete in giving her things, not because we're trying to win her love, (we already have a lifetime of it) but because she's so deserving. Through everything we've going through as a family, my Mom ALWAYS kept it "classy". Ever the "lady". I thought my Mother was the epitome of womanhood. She wore long satin gowns to bed every single night. I loved how they waved in the wind and would sometimes flick me ever so lightly in the face so I could get a waft of the scent of Oil of Olay she wore. To this day, Oil Of Olay smells like my Mom...and now I use it to.
:::heavy sigh::: I just love my parents.