This operation worked out wonderfully until my dad lost his life in an automobile accident in Oct. of 1982. Suddenly, my mom’s job went from a convenient way to bring in additional income to being the only income.
So that was probably a little stressful for her, raising a ten-year-old who was enrolled in a pricey, private school, not to mention having three college-age kids, a mortgage, car note and all those other fun things that constitute a life.
My mom stuck it out, and is retiring today from the (renamed) University of Memphis School of Law. She’s been through about five or six different deans, scads of law professors, and thousands of law students.
She’s orchestrated and attended about 25 law school graduations. I bet she’s said “School of Law, Ruth McCormick” when she’s answered the phone about a million times now.
So here’s to you, mom - here’s to no more driving all those miles on Poplar Avenue’s not-wide-enough lanes to campus. Here’s to no more worrying about finding the right shoes to wear to work. Here’s to sleeping in, taking as long as you’d like reading the paper, and going to the grocery store any time of the day you please. Here’s to only having to say “hello” when you answer the phone.
Unless, of course, it’s me and then you can answer by saying “hello, Amy, you were always my favorite.” Just kidding, Patti, Mim, and Gerald. (Mom, we’ll keep that our little secret.)
(Postscript: The attached photo is of my mom and her sisters in the Smoky Mountains, circa mid-to-late ‘70s. My mom is in the very back, standing.)