MARK BALLARD: Young in the memory

I wonder what my mother would look like now had she lived. How much would almost 21 years have aged her? What is the first thing I would say to her if I were granted that opportunity? What would she think of what I’ve done with my life since she left? Would she be proud of me? These are some of the questions that are dancing around in my head on this Mother’s Day.

From when we are inside our mothers’ wombs, most of us make a deep and lasting connection. As small children, we think we will have our mothers forever. They will always be there to wipe away our tears, give us wise advice when needed and encourage us never to be afraid. My mother always wanted me to dream big and live my life to the fullest. She always wanted me to soar.

I just always assumed she would be only a short drive or quick phone call away. Growing up, Mother protected me the best she could from the negative parts of life. She always highlighted life’s positive things. She wanted my life to be bigger than hers had been. She wanted me to do more, be more and have more than she did. She lifted me higher than I even thought I could go.

Little do we know when we are younger all the twists, turns and curve balls life can throw our way without warning. I certainly never even imagined Mother would slip away when she was just 60 years old. I still find it hard to wrap my mind around. Even though she’s physically gone, she lives within me each and every day. Now it makes sense why she spent so much of her time teaching me life lessons. She knew she wouldn’t always be here.

When I close my eyes and envision Mother, I don’t see her toward the end of her life. I refuse to remember her after a horrible car wreck unfairly left her physical body mangled. I choose to see my young and beautiful mother with her brightly shining spirit, her smile that lit up the space around her and that infectious laugh of hers. Oh, how I can still hear it. I hold on to her wonderful attributes. The same ones she refused to surrender even up to the last seconds of her life.

Of course I never knew Mother as a child or teenager or, as fate would have it, even an elderly woman. But I was blessed to know her in her best years when she was a devoted and giving wife, dedicated and loving mother, and honest and loyal friend. Although Mother never got to see me during my television days or read any of my columns or books, I do get glimpses of her past from many people I meet.

Hardly a day goes by that someone doesn’t mention Mother to me. Many times after my stage performances, people will wait backstage to share a memory of Mother.

Others will stop me in the grocery store to tell a quick story about her. After each of my columns, I receive emails from people whose lives were touched by Mother. I am truly blessed to have so many people speak so fondly of Mother allowing her memory to live on.

At one of my recent performances, a grade school friend of my mother named Miriam approached me and handed me a large envelope. Several copies of old, yellowed and faded yearbook photos were inside. Miriam had taken the time to indicate Mother’s photos in a classroom of children and the grade she was in. With the flash of a camera, pieces of Mother’s childhood were captured. Miriam had given me a gift that meant the world to me. Because of her I got to visit with my mother during a time I didn’t know her.

I will not physically see or be with my mother today. I won’t get to take her to lunch or buy her flowers. I can’t talk with her or ask her any advice. But the mark she left on me will always be there because one thing is for sure: If you were lucky enough to cross paths with Mother, you never forgot her wonderful spirit and smile.

I was blessed beyond measure to have her as my mother even if I did have to give her up way too soon. So, to answer the question about the first thing I would say to her, there is no doubt. It would be “thank you!”

Mark Ballard’s column runs each week in The Telegraph. Send your questions or comments to P.O. Box 4232, Macon, GA 31208; call (478) 757-6877; email to markballard@cox.net; follow him at instagram.com/markcreates or become a subscriber to Mark’s Facebook page.

This story was originally published May 10, 2015 at 12:00 AM with the headline "MARK BALLARD: Young in the memory ."