I spent my last blog entry discussing how fantastic my sister, Melissa, is. This blog entry, I turn to my mother. It isn’t her birthday, and Mothers Day is still a few weeks off, but circumstances in my life warrant me stopping for a moment and praising my beautiful Mother. Without becoming too personal, I just want to say that in the past few days, I have once again been reminded of how wonderful it is to have a mother who knows her daughters well enough to still be in tune with our needs, despite the physical distance that may exist between where we live and where she lives. She has never been a conventional Mormon housewife, and yet, her spirituality is unquestionable; her relationship with the Savior, a model for her daughters.
A big federal court ruling came down in Mississippi impacting the school district for the county, in which my parents reside. I am going to talk about this ruling more in a separate blog post, but the reason why I am posting it here is because my mother, when moving back to Mississippi, refused to teach in the Walthall County schools, and for good reason. She also refused to teach in the private “academies” that dot counties across Mississippi that were created initially because of people who refused to send their children to newly integrated schools in Mississippi 30-40 years ago (although now, said academies are finally starting to integrate). The fact is, the reason my sisters and I are who we are and believe what we believe is in no small part because of my mother and the fact that from a young age, she taught us to stand up for what we believe in. The world is a better place because Mom has been a teacher for so many years and has made a choice to teach all kids, not just those that come from privileged families.
I could go on and on on the many ways my Mother has been my role model from the start, but the reason I love my Mom so much is because I have seen her in good times and bad, and have watched her grow as a person, the same way that she watched her daughters grow. It is evidence of divine inspiration that in my life, my parents and my sisters were put in this place to grow and learn together. We have come so far.
My Mom as a single gal, living her life in Charleston, when she was just Poole and not Street.
Mom with a young, Sarah wearing Dad’s Navy sailor hat and sunglasses. She is also with Rusty. Anyone who questions why Knightley is my constant companion these days need only look at pictures of my mom with her canine companions to understand from where that came:
Sarah fixin‘ the truck with Mom’s “assistance.” This was back in the days when our pickup truck was the only mode of transportation we had. Somehow my mother, more accustomed to sailing clubs than trailer parks made it through the early days of our family in Mississippi:
Mom with Sancho, another loyal friend: