A Mother's Legacy….Dorothy Jane Maegerlein Young

When I knew Ian's mother, she was always Mrs. Young or Mrs. Dorothy….never Dorothy or Mom.  And, that's because my years around Mrs. Young were as a young, impressionable girl who looked up to, admired, and frankly, was a little frightened of the elegant, imposing woman.

My memories of her were mostly from church, watching her from across the pew.  I do remember a time of twirling her wedding ring which I now wear on my right hand…wearing it with humble, quiet honor.  I wish I could remember how young I was when I twirled her ring, but I do remember her glancing down with a smile and then, eventually, putting her hand over mine so that I was still.  Twirling could only last so long when you were supposed to be paying attention to the sermon.

She was a strong woman, slight of frame, but large of personhood.  And, she had to be.  She was one of those women I read about in college who forged the "breaking of the glass ceiling" for all of us who would come after her.  She was of that lost generation where dignity, modesty, and self-control were staples in their lives and were what made them internally and eternally lovely. 

She worked as the administrative assistant a/k/a secretary for the "full bird" Colonel on base at Fort Knox and, as Ian tells it, "if you wanted to get close to the General, you had to speak first with Mrs. Young."  

When I think of Mrs. Young, I think of business suits, hats, gloves, and a perfectly made up coiffure and face.  She was the only rose among two "thorns" in her home and I think both of the men in her home would agree that she was its heart and centerpiece.

She began to mean more to me when I started crushing on her only son, Ian, as a young thirteen year old.  I had to pay more attention to her because she most definitely paid close attention to him. 

I remember one time, our youth group went to his home after Sunday evening church.  We kids arrived at the Young's home prior to any of the adults and we all went down to his family room.  Ian called me over to sit on his knee because all the other chairs were taken.  When Mrs. Young arrived home, it was pretty clear from her expression that she was not happy to see me sitting on his knee and she called me over to her and said, "Lesa, polite young girls do not sit on the knees of young boys."  I felt pretty lowly….and remember being both embarrassed and angry at the same time (HE was the one who told me to sit there), but I realize now, she wanted me to have high standards and to be a lady.  Ian told me that later that evening when we had all gone home that she scolded him, too, letting him know that I was young, impressionable, and crushing on him and that he should not take advantage.

 

Ian is five years older than I and his mother seemed to feel the weight of that age difference in ways Ian and I could not then, but now, understand.  

Ian and I have often talked about the "what ifs" and "how sweet it would have been" and "my Mama would have loved having you for a daughter in law" and "you and Mama have so much in common"….and, it could be sad if we dwelled on that part of our story.

But, instead, we choose to remember the joyful….the times that she seemed delighted when we dropped by their home on our way home from a date, or the time Herschell, Ian and I went to the Ky Fairgrounds to a big Yard Sale and the time Dorothy told Ian not to peel out of the church parking lot with me in the car which, of course, just encouraged him to do just that.

Now, as Ian's wife, I feel like I am getting to know Mrs. Young, Dorothy, Mom all over again.  These years since Ian and I have been married, we have spent several evenings going through her treasures….and, she has many…at least they are treasures to me. 

She was a woman who loved beautiful things…you can tell by what she collected during her lifetime.  But, more important than the things are the ties….the memories attached to them.  It is as if each item she has ever purchased was chosen for a special purpose….a special memory….a special person.

And, even more importantly, she left these sweet, hand-written notes which describe the particulars of so many of her things -  when she bought it, where she got it, who wore it, owned it, loved it previously.  She prepared so many of her treasures so that they would one day be enjoyed by those who came after her, and I am grateful.  

Each quilt we open, each gift from Japan we unfold, each box of photos we find, Ian and I are blessed with his Mama's presence in our lives.  We were talking last night as I put on one of the Japanese outfits she had stored in her oriental chest how we could almost feel her presence in the room  with us….it brought tears to my eyes and joy to my heart to watch Ian watching me enjoying opening his Mama's things.

"Mama loved you already as a young girl, but she would have adored having you for her daughter in law," he said.

And, I her.

I am grateful for Mom Young because that same discipline, kindness, compassion she had for those in her life can be found in her son.  That same appreciation for things beautiful, for the importance of understanding, "if it's important to you, it's important to me" can be seen in my daily living with Ian.  That genuine legacy of the importance of family, the value of honor, and the insistence on respect are the foundations for the heart she grew in my husband.

So, regardless of what I was enabled to call this woman….Mrs. Young, Mrs. Dorothy, Dorothy….or Mom, she was a beautiful woman who prepared for me her greatest treasure….that of her son, Ian.  

And, for that, I am eternally Eucharisto….Thankful,

Blessings,

Lesa