Mother knew best

by Doug Crowe
Tuesday, May 13, 2008 7:52 PM MDT

My mother was born Shirley Rose McCumber on Oct. 24, 1919, in a dusty little nowhere town on the Kansas prairie. Her father was a feisty Irish bricklayer of local pugilistic renown, her mother a homemaker.

Shirley Rose married Richard Martin Crowe in July of 1938, and they were together until she died in October of 2002.

The upshot of this union was that I had the privilege of growing up in a "Leave It to Beaver/Father Knows Best" kind of household. If you don't know what that means, you probably needn't read any further.

Anyway, Dad worked as a printer on Casper newspapers, and Mom's job was to take care of the family. It was not only her job, it was her avocation and her passion ... and she was extremely good at it!

One of my earliest memories is of driving across two-thirds of the country to Norfolk, Va., where Dad's aircraft carrier was in port. It had been damaged by kamikazes and was being repaired and refitted for the anticipated attack on the Japanese homeland.

I think Mom was afraid it might be the only chance I ever would have to know my father. However, it is possible there was also an ulterior motive. If my math is correct, one of my sisters was conceived during that visit.

I remember also what a huge production she made of holidays. She was the glue that held our extended family together, and our house would be filled with grandparents, uncles, aunts and cousins on such occasions as Christmas or Thanksgiving or Easter.

In the midst of the revelry and confusion, she had a knack for making you feel as if you were the center of the universe. And she was even better at birthdays!

A birthday was a major production in our house. No matter how pinched the budget, there was always at least one special gift. I still have the Lionel electric train I got on my 10th birthday.

Another thing my mom was especially good at was lessons. When dad brought home his paycheck, she took it to the bank and cashed it. Money owed for various goods and services that month then was placed in individual envelopes and hand delivered.

That chore finished, she would drag me around as she shopped for things like food and clothing with what remained. In our family, one did not buy on credit. You paid what you owed with cash and you paid it promptly and fully.

I know now she was trying to teach me fiscal responsibility -- that you paid your bills on time and did not purchase things you could not afford. I'm hoping those lessons will get me through retirement!

Even during my teenage idiot phase, when I had nothing to offer the world but a bad attitude and a know-it-all demeanor, Mom's love never wavered.

She had faith that if I made it past my teens without being beaten to death or incarcerated, I would become a contributing member of society.

Dad was not so sure, but he didn't dare say that around her.

And let me tell you one last thing that even today brings a tear to my eye when I think about it.

She sent me a letter every day when I was stationed in Korea. I didn't always receive a letter every day -- sometimes a few days would pass with no mail -- but then would come a day when mail call resulted in several letters.

Just imagine that: I received a letter from my mother postmarked Casper, Wyo., every single day for 13 months!

My God, what a privileged upbringing I had. Thanks, Mom!

Print this story   |   Email this story