My Mammaw Nita Ann is a character among characters. When I describe her to my friends, they are often stunned in disbelief at some of the tales that have become commonplace in my family's lore. Among those suitable for public viewing are: the time she sent me an enormous window unit air conditioner via US Mail to New York City from Arab, Alabama. Or the time she led her girlfriends on an expedition away from school for the day. When the principal found them and drove them all back to school, he marched them into his office. But before he could get in behind them, she locked the office door! Then, they all took off again out his window! Or the fact that she can recite our ancestors by name, not only back to Arab's founder, Stephen Tuttle Thompson, but all the way back to President John Adam's favorite signer of the Declaration of Independence, Stephen Hopkins.
She has found her life's purpose in pouring herself into family relationships. The ways she has loved me and supported my career as an artist and musician are far too many to name, but you can suffice it to say, she started early and has never stopped. More recently her devotion has been shared with my nephews, Bo and Blake and niece, Shelby.
Just for the sake of this story, I'll use Blake as an example. Between her visits to Lake View Dialysis for treatments, she has found time to go to every one of his football functions, games, and practices. Literally, poor Blake can't sneeze without her there to wipe his nose and then brag to her friends at the Beauty Shop about how bravely he went about the whole thing.
So, a few months ago, Blake and his teammates decided to take a game ball, all sign it, and give it to Mammaw. Well, she could not have been happier if the Queen of England herself had crossed the great pond with her Royal Entourage to Arab and declared her Lady Nita Ann Bentley.
It is a very special thing to be loved that way. I know. I've joked that she loves me so much that if I committed murder she would not only figure out why they had it coming, she might help me hide the body.
The point of this is to say that unconditional love is an extremely powerful thing. If you were not lucky enough to have a "Mammaw" like mine, just learn from her example and find a kid, believe in him or her beyond anything they could imagine, and watch what happens.
4 comments:
This might be my favorite post. I love your Mammaw!!!!!
i am thinking about amanda's story about spending the night in the hospital- is this the same lady??
I am so glad that I decided to read your blog today! What a challenge to love like Mammaw does! So great that they gave her the game ball!
How absolutely beautiful . . . I was lucky to have a Mammaw in my life and remember very vividly your Mammaw's love for you and your circle of friends; particularly in high school when we were bored and would raid her attic for dress-up clothes!! Your next read (and it is very short) is THE MEASURE OF OUR SUCCESS by Marian Wright Edelman. Her book came to mind as I read this post. Great job! Keep writing.
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