Mama
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| Mama Baird in her kitchen at 45 Hazel Street, Porterdale, Georgia |
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Ieula Ann Dick Baird, ("Mama Baird") probably at about the time of her marriage in 1903
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| Mama Baird |
The following is my mother's tribute to her mother, my "Mama Baird" of the Mothers Day:
Happy Mother's Day 2013
Happy Mother’s Day! We are all either the son or the daughter of a mother. So in that capacity all of us fit into a Mother’s Day
Celebration!
As a Mother myself, I have had a difficult time with some comments I have heard on Mother's Day, They make us all …all mothers “angels.” One would get the idea that to become a mother is to become a saint. We all know there are loving, hard working, good mothers and there are also selfish and neglectful and not so good mothers. Most of us as mothers find our place somewhere in between.
But there is something about motherhood that tends to bring out the best in us. In spite of the seemingly endless nausea and misery of pregnancy and pain of childbirth, the incredible love that we have for that helpless and amazingly beautiful baby when it is finally born is awesome. Our love for our children is amazing.
Erma Bombeck is quoted, “The easiest part of being a mother is giving birth. The hardest part is showing up on the job every day." And I might add it is showing up 24/7.
Most of us as adults have an emotional attachment and love for our mother. In cases where the mother has such personal problems as to neglect, abuse or abandon the child there is always unbelievable sorrow.
Just the thought of "mother" brings about great emotion in many of us. I remember one Saturday before Mothers Day when I was sitting in the sanctuary with our church music director. We were discussing the music for the next day and got into conversation about some of the old Mother's Day hymns. She mentioned two old gospel songs, "That Silver Haired Mother of Mine" and "If I Could Hear My Mother Pray Again." We both choked up.
It seems to me that mother love is more nearly like God's love...unselfish love...agape love, than any other human love. Mother seems to see possibilities in us that other people seem not to notice. Just as God sees possibilities in us that we do not see in ourselves and others fail to see.
My daughter, Deborah Lewis wrote a book in 1990, later put out in paperback which I think is the best on the subject; "Motherhood Stress." On the cover of "Motherhood Stress" is a woman stretched out across two mountain peaks, with children walking across her, and the sub title is "Finding Encouragement in the Ultimate Helping Profession." Motherhood is the ultimate helping profession and parents are encouraged to realize the importance of the job.
I was in my early fifties when my mother died at age 88. Even though I had a husband and seven children, I will never forget the sense of loneliness and loss I felt to realize my mother was no longer in my world.
Until the last few days of her life in a hospital, she lived in her own home and took care of herself.
My mother had a philosophy of life not to worry about things that “could not be helped” and to take each day as a new beginning. In honor of my mother, Eula Ann Dick Baird (3-6-1885 - 12-7-1973) I wrote a ballad in 1985.
My mother grew old. . . had lines etched in her face
Worked hard all her life. . . with uncommon grace
She lived by the Bible. . . Each day and each mile.
She taught me her secret. . . of life with a smile.
She said. . . Today is the first day. Of the rest of your life.
Don't borrow trouble, With yesterday’s strife.
Take time. . . Smell the flowers.
It makes life worth while
Then pick up each new day.
With love and a smile!
Widowed while young. . . Mama worked in a mill.
Washed on a scrub-board. . . Brought wood up a hill.
She sang as she labored… to stay out of debt ,
She taught me a lesson. . . I'll never forget.
She said. . . Today is the first day. Of the rest of your life.
Don't borrow trouble, With yesterday’s strife.
Take time. . . smell the flowers.
It makes life worth while .
Pick up each new day With love and a smile!
One day I said, Mama,. . . Your life has been hard .
You've buried two babies. . . Out in the church yard.
You've known all the heartache of struggling for bread,
She smiled through her tears and these words she said:
She said. . . Today is the first day, Of the rest of your life.
Don't borrow trouble, With yesterday’s strife.
Take time. . . smell the flowers.
It makes life worth while.
Pick up each new day. With love and a smile!
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Her old fashioned teacakes? We ate the last crumb!
Her old fashioned flowers? She had a green thumb!
She lived by the Bible. . . Each day and each mile.
She taught me her secret. . . of life with a smile.
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