January 14, 2018          I miss Mom’s optimism

         Last night the Ladies Guild at my church offered a Repose of the Soul Mass for my Mom who died in October.  It was a difficult evening for me and I finally settled on what I miss most about my Mom was her optimism.  I dusted off an essay I wrote about Mom back in 1988 that still rings true now that she has died.

As long as I can remember, my Mom has kept our spirits high with her incurable optimism.  She has always been able to keep situations upbeat even when situations seem to be at their worst. A good example of this would be her knack of turning a picnic trip that has been rained out by a severe hurricane into a memorable occasion.  The special picnic outing was cancelled at the last minute due to bad weather from a hurricane that knocked out electricity and downed trees forcing us to stay home.  All of us were disappointed until Mom spread the red-checkered table cloth out on the living room rug where we picnicked and played games by candlelight.

          Also, Mom is charmingly optimistic in her hopeful sayings at times of adversity:

The dark is always deepest before dawn.

Keep your chin up or you will not know that you have gotten there.

Every dark cloud has a silver lining.

          Not only can she turn bad situations into happy ones, but she exudes an optimistic outlook toward the future. In fact, her optimism reflects her expectations that only the best will happen.  Assured that her grandchildren will have auspicious occasions in the future, she will teach them the proper etiquette of silverware table manners and say, “You might even become President!”

          In summary, the best way to describe Mom’s incurable optimism is to mention the pet names the family has given her over the years, such as “Camp counselor,” “Cruise director,” and “Family cheerleader.”

          Memo to self – locate some books on optimism at the library – so I can learn to emulate Mom and carry on in her footsteps.