Allison's speech

Old habits are hard to break. I didn’t start writing my speech until 10 pm last night. There’s nothing like waiting until the last minute - I had a flashback to one night in 5th grade when I stayed up until midnight working on an alphabet book assignment. Mom stayed up with me, helping when I had questions, dozing on the sofa when I didn’t. After all she had 3 kids to get off to school the next morning!

Mom was our mother hen. She always made sure I had enough snacks at school (because playing high school sports worked up an appetite), that I had the right gear (like special leggings to wear under soccer shorts when I played in the cold winter rain and a parka and a couple of big fluffy towels for those chilly afternoon swim meets), and transportation. I wasn’t allowed to drive myself to/from school, but I could call for a ride home. Back in the day before cell phones, I would call home and give the signal - letting the phone ring twice and then hanging up, thereby saving the precious 20 cents to use the next day. Mom came to all our swim meets, soccer games, and award ceremonies, cheering us along every step of the way. She came to Lake Tahoe in 2001, waited over 9 hours on the course (because it took us that long) and stood rooting for us at the finish line as Scott and I completed a 100 mile bike ride. Little did I know how much accomplishing this feat with The Leukemia and Lymphoma Society’s Team in Training program would hit so close to home.

I have so many other great memories with Mom.
There was the night 15 years ago when I met my husband for the very first time – in person. Mom insisted on coming with me to pick Scott up from the airport (how uncool! But I was secretly glad to have the company of my mother Hen). Playing the gracious host, mom tried to point out to Scott various sights on the drive home – even though the sun had set long ago and it was too dark to see anything.

There were all the times Mom helped me with my math homework. Apparently I didn’t inherit her mathematical genius. But Mom had endless patience. I spent countless nights at the kitchen table after dinner, struggling to understand my math homework. I shed many a tear but Mom was always calm and never raised her voice. Even when she had to use a big pile of scrap paper to try and explain the same concept in 5 different ways (that was mom, the teacher).

Then there were the times when I was learning how to drive. One night mom had me drive home from dinner in the pouring rain, for practice of course. I could barely see through the windshield, even with the wipers on high, the car was hydroplaning, cars are whizzing by me, and I’m inching along in the slow lane, with a tight grip on the steering wheel going maybe 30MPH because I was terrified. But Mom sat beside me, calmly giving me encouragement, telling me there was no need to rush and I could go as slow as I wanted on the freeway (really? On the freeway?).


Another time I wanted to go over to my friend Holly’s house. Mom said ok, but …I was going to have to drive us there. In the huge brown Chevy van. The van that required mom and I to have a pillow behind our backs in order to reach the pedals! Once again I found myself driving at a snail’s pace while gripping the steering wheel (which was like steering bus) because I’m afraid the van is going to tip over when I turn a corner. But with the same patient encouragement from Mom, I got us there in one piece and eventually I was driving that giant monster like a pro.

Ok so I never did become a mathematician like mom. But you know what I did inherit? Her love of sweets. Oh how I relished the times when she would bring something home or encourage us to order a dessert “just to try.” Even now I must have a piece of chocolate every day. (Dad you can stop shaking your head.)

Mom was gentle, kind, generous, caring, nurturing, giving, loving. She was always smiling, cheerful, and believed in having a positive attitude. I know often women grow up thinking, I don’t want to be like my mother, or oh no, I’m becoming just like my mother. But after reflecting on who she was, how she lived her life, how many people she has touched – I want to be just like her when I grow up.