My Mother

Donna Joy (Sowers) Deckmann

August 30, 1940  -  March 7, 2020

When I think of my Mother, one of the first things that comes to mind is how she loved to sing.

She had a lovely voice and wasn’t shy about singing around her family. She sang while doing chores around the house and on car trips.  She sang children’s songs to us as toddlers then funny lighthearted songs as we got a little older.  She sang old ballads and songs she learned from her mother. She sang songs from her teenage years. She sometimes sang along with current songs on the radio.

She must have known the lyrics to hundreds of songs and every now and then she would sing one that I hadn’t heard her sing before.  She would keep singing small bits of it until she had the lyrics and the tune just right.

My Mother was a good story teller.  She could relate family history and anecdotes from her childhood and adult life and repeat stories told to her by other relatives…all in a detailed way that painted a mental image almost as good as if I’d been there myself.   She told us children the story of meeting and marrying our Dad and also the funny and not so funny, and embarrassing stuff from our early years.

She could tell the plot of any book she would be reading - with just enough interesting detail that I immediately wanted to read it myself.

She was a bit of a perfectionist.  My Mother liked anything she did to be done well.  She even elevated laundry to an art form…stains removed, tears mended, pills shaved, tags lying flat and everything nicely folded (even socks) then organized in drawers and closets.

My Mother had a talent for restoring and renewing  small things…maybe touching up paint on a figurine or an older framed painting.  She loved dolls and one of her favorite things was to take an old or mistreated one and make it nice again.  She would wash and curl their hair, clean and repair their clothes and perhaps embellish with a bit of embroidery or repurposed lace. Sometimes she would even make them some under drawers from the cuff of an old sock.  Barbie dolls might get some fresh dots of nail polish on their fingertips. 

When I think of my Mother , I think of gleaming white Reebok tennis shoes and Diet Coke.

My Mother was a devoted daughter to her own Mother…stepping up to care for her in her later years, even after Alzheimers turned their close relationship into one that was frustrating and heartbreaking.

My  Mother and Dad were just a few weeks short of their 62nd wedding anniversary when she left this earth. 

She was his loyal and dependable partner.  She took care of her appearance…always clean and tidy and ladylike.  She made their home comfortable, warm and inviting. She could be trusted not to spend money frivolously. She wasn’t one who was always wishing for more and better things.  She appreciated and  took care of what she had and made a good life for her family.  My Mother treated my Dad’s side of the family as her own, and also helped meet the needs of her elderly mother-in-law during her final years.

My Mother  took good care of us children.  We always had clean clothes and plenty of food in the house. She was the type of parent who would let you make your own mistakes, and learn from them…as long as it wasn’t anything too serious.   

She was indulgent and as small children, we would sometimes come home from a shopping trip with a new toy.  In my teen years, she could be persuaded (or begged) to drive me to the mall and let me pick out new jeans or a top.

 My Mother loved to read and took us to the library from the time we were small.  One of my favorite memories of childhood is my Mother taking us to the library on a hot summer day, then coming home to have Cambell’s soup and a big bowl of buttery popcorn for lunch while we all got started reading  our books.

My Mother had a fear and revulsion of bugs.  The top two on the list were spiders and thousand leggers.  Oh, and the Stink bugs too.  She was always looking out for them and didn’t mind going in for the kill when she spotted one.  She did NOT want them to get away.

My Mother used to plant petunias in spring. In her later years she started rotating a variety of seasonal artificial flowers in the beds and flower pots outside. She was always tickled and had to laugh when someone complimented her on them , thinking they were real.   She always admitted what she’d done though, so they could share the joke too.

My Mother had an eye for decorating. She knew how to place things in a room and how to have the right amount of things on display.  She liked braided rugs and a few antique pieces. Bowls of artificial fruit were her trademark. She took great pride in her formal living room and family heirloom china cabinet.   She made their home especially beautiful and cozy at Christmas time…when every room had a bit of holiday decoration.

Donna and Fred Deckmann, my parents,  Christmas 2019

In the time before her passing, one of the last songs I heard my Mother sing was 

“Will There Be Any Stars?” 

 She had heard it the day before, at the rehab home when a musician came in and performed for the residents. She must have known it from long before that though, because she knew all the lyrics.

She sang it through a couple of times and I tried to sing along a bit too.  Here is the first verse and chorus…

I am thinking today of that beautiful land
I shall reach when the sun goeth down
When through wonderful grace by my Saviour I stand
Will there be any stars in my crown.

Will there be any stars, any stars in my crown
When at evening the sun goeth down
When I wake with the blest in those mansions of rest
Will there be any stars in my crown.

My Mother passed a few weeks later, peacefully and beautifully, with her face smooth and untroubled and her silvery golden hair spread across the pillow. 

Yes Mother, there are Stars in Your Crown. They have always been there.