Well, where do I begin? I was reading through the memories that everyone wrote about my mom. WOW what an amazing woman. She was a creative and talented woman, which we all had the privilege to see in her crafts. I remember the boys complaining that they had to stuff snowmen and help with ‘moms’ crafts. And Christmas was her season; she always made everyone feel special. With her lavish dinners and gifts, she threw her whole heart into it.
I have so many memories, from learning how to work on the farm, which was always an adventure, to learning how to cook. But this past winter reminded me of a part of mom that you don’t hear as much about. I was watching my step-daughter, Kayla play basketball in the state tournament and I was hit with a flood of memories. My mom the sports coach. I know most of you will remember her love for hockey, but I remember her love of which ever sport any of kids were playing.
Most of you know that I love basketball and was pretty good at it. She was a quick study on the game. At first she would say to me, “Well I don’t know much but let’s figure it out.” When I was in high school we would sit and discuss my game at length. Strategizing about how I could improve or how I could work on rattling the other team. Kayla plays with such determination and heart that it reminded of things that mom would say. “Heather you need to move your feet! You shouldn't foul that much!" "Heather you need to slow down so the ball can bounce back to half court on your lay up." "Heather you had a great game, man you stole the ball a lot!” No matter where I was on the court I could always hear two voices, my coach and my mom. She was the best fan anyone could have.
But my most recent memory is just over a year ago, just before she went in for surgery. I was coaching my son, Tracer for basketball. After the game she sat down with me and discussed the game and we worked on strategies to help the boys get better. Even then she was my biggest fan. She said she was proud to watch me take something that I love and put it to good use.
As my kids grew up and started to chose their sports to be involved in she was there cheering them on. She watched my son Tracer, the smallest on his football team, make it to the super bowl. She said that he reminded her of me, small but with such determination that she knew he would take down the biggest kid, which he did. She watched my daughter Kiya star in gymnastics. Since neither of us had a clue about what to expect, mom and I would watch all the other girls and try to figure out what Kiya should do. Although I have to admit, as Kiya started to do bigger skills, both mom and I would catch ourselves holding our breaths. She was also a big fan of Kayla’s. Since Kayla played for Connell mom and dad made some of the games. She said Kayla is lot like me, never gives up and leaves it on court, she is fun to watch. Although she didn’t get to see much of Bryar she did make a few T-ball games. She reminded me that T-Ball was made for grandmas and grandpas. She said “Heather it has to be because you are so competitive that this has to be driving you nuts”. By the way I have learned a lot about patience and tongue biting.
There are so many more memories of my mom that I could go on forever. But I will end by saying: My Mom was my biggest fan and my best friend, you will be missed.
I have so many memories, from learning how to work on the farm, which was always an adventure, to learning how to cook. But this past winter reminded me of a part of mom that you don’t hear as much about. I was watching my step-daughter, Kayla play basketball in the state tournament and I was hit with a flood of memories. My mom the sports coach. I know most of you will remember her love for hockey, but I remember her love of which ever sport any of kids were playing.
Most of you know that I love basketball and was pretty good at it. She was a quick study on the game. At first she would say to me, “Well I don’t know much but let’s figure it out.” When I was in high school we would sit and discuss my game at length. Strategizing about how I could improve or how I could work on rattling the other team. Kayla plays with such determination and heart that it reminded of things that mom would say. “Heather you need to move your feet! You shouldn't foul that much!" "Heather you need to slow down so the ball can bounce back to half court on your lay up." "Heather you had a great game, man you stole the ball a lot!” No matter where I was on the court I could always hear two voices, my coach and my mom. She was the best fan anyone could have.
But my most recent memory is just over a year ago, just before she went in for surgery. I was coaching my son, Tracer for basketball. After the game she sat down with me and discussed the game and we worked on strategies to help the boys get better. Even then she was my biggest fan. She said she was proud to watch me take something that I love and put it to good use.
As my kids grew up and started to chose their sports to be involved in she was there cheering them on. She watched my son Tracer, the smallest on his football team, make it to the super bowl. She said that he reminded her of me, small but with such determination that she knew he would take down the biggest kid, which he did. She watched my daughter Kiya star in gymnastics. Since neither of us had a clue about what to expect, mom and I would watch all the other girls and try to figure out what Kiya should do. Although I have to admit, as Kiya started to do bigger skills, both mom and I would catch ourselves holding our breaths. She was also a big fan of Kayla’s. Since Kayla played for Connell mom and dad made some of the games. She said Kayla is lot like me, never gives up and leaves it on court, she is fun to watch. Although she didn’t get to see much of Bryar she did make a few T-ball games. She reminded me that T-Ball was made for grandmas and grandpas. She said “Heather it has to be because you are so competitive that this has to be driving you nuts”. By the way I have learned a lot about patience and tongue biting.
There are so many more memories of my mom that I could go on forever. But I will end by saying: My Mom was my biggest fan and my best friend, you will be missed.
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