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.
