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
