A few rocks and a lot of nice

It was Friday morning and Mom and I were waiting at the surgery center for her to have a procedure on her esophagus.

She leaned back on the pillow and told me that she had a restless night. She woke up in the wee hours of the morning and thought about how she would live her life differently, if she had the chance. I knew this was going to be interesting.

She said “well, I definitely would have married your dad and even sooner than we did. (Remember they married at 16) 63 years just wasn’t enough time to love each other.

She said they had found out early in their marriage that they were unable to have children and thought they would just go through life as a couple. Then a few years before they turned 30 they decided they wanted to adopt. After two unsuccessful adoptions where a mom changed her mind and a baby died, they received a call that a baby was born. That little baby girl would arrive at their house that afternoon, September 7, 1955. I was three days old. She said she was glad that baby wasn’t given to someone else. I told her that I was glad too.

She said she would have collected more rocks. I always knew she loved rocks. I just didn’t know how much. She has collected very unusual rocks that she has brought up to Indiana from the family farm in Kentucky. She said they had a fresh water spring at the back of the house that had the best tasting water and the prettiest rocks. She found an unusual rock when she was a little girl and planted it in the garden thinking it would grow. She said it never did.

I remember one vacation where we stopped along the roadside in South Dakota and there were rose quartz rocks blanketing the side of the mountain. Several of them found their way to Indiana for Mom’s rock garden.

Then she told me that she wished she had been nicer to people. Her saying that really took me by surprise. Anyone who knows my mother knows that she is nice. I mean she is that lady who shows up with a fruit cocktail cake if you have a death in the family. She calls you if she hears you aren’t feeling well to tell you that she is praying for you. I always believed that she had a hotline to God. Her Bible sits right by her recliner and the pages are worn. She has always lived her faith. I always thought “Thou shalt be nice” was the 11th commandment.

My mom has never been one to talk bad about people. She would just say, “well, they are funny turned.” Our family knew what that meant. She didn’t think they were nice. She always thought there was a reason someone acted the way they did and she was not one to judge them.

After her procedure she told the nurse, “you sure are nice”. I don’t think the nurse knew how big of a compliment that she was given. The warmed up blankets might have played a big part in that statement by my mom.

We headed home and I said a prayer to thank God for giving me such a nice mom. I only hope I can be half as nice a lady as she is. And I think I’ll be collecting some rocks.