She was born the fourth daughter to a poor but proud woman in the backwoods of Alabama 75 years ago. By the age of three, her father left her mother alone and penniless to finishing raising their family. He left with no word or forwarding address back in the day when there were not many legal ways for a single woman to make a living for herself and her children and certainly no legal rights to seek child support. He left a beautiful, kind toddler who would grow up to be an even more beautiful and caring adult. He left my mother (in-love), Sammye, fatherless but certainly not loveless.
I first met Sammye over the phone when as an 18 year old, I shyly called to wish my brand new boyfriend good luck. It was my freshman and his senior year in college. I was flying on a jet plane to New York City and he was driving on a bus to Savannah to play in the last Spring Break baseball tournament of his college career. The dichotomy was not lost on us then nor today. She was following him as his number one fan (I would become a close second during the course of the next few months).
“Hello,” I said. “Is Kirk there?”
“Why, no. You just missed him!” said my future MIL in her signature chipper way.
“Would you tell him I said good luck,” I replied.
Sensing my deep disappointment, she responded kindly that she certainly would make sure he got my message. And she did. Her son had the tournament of his career and she the time of her life as she did at all of his games. When I finally met her in person, she was quick to give me the credit as his inspiration. Over the years, I came to understand that this humble woman rarely took credit for many of the things she accomplished or influenced in her life.
That was the beginning of our almost 30 year relationship. It wasn’t long after my future husband and I began dating that I became a welcome fixture in her household. Family dinners included a fourth setting for me and there was always room on road trips for my suitcase. When I finally ran out of money but still had one semester of college left, Sammye took me in without any hesitation and treated me as her own and has ever since.
It was through her that I learned how to be a mother and wife, although she’s still trying to teach me to cook (she’s tenacious and never gives up!). I learned how to be patient and how to express disappointment with just one look to wayward children, dogs and husband. I learned that you can be worlds apart in your political and religious beliefs but still maintain a deep and respectful love. But most importantly, I learned that it is not the amount of money in your bank account but rather the deposit in your heart that means the most at the end of the day.
Sammye and her family never had a lot of extras in their lives. Early on, she made the choice to stay home and raise her children becoming one of the best domestic engineers of her time and she managed their meager funds wisely. She was a wife to a hardworking brewery employee who worked multiple shifts to earn extra money to meet their essential expenses. They took family vacations to the coast every year and took joy in each other’s company along the way. Eating out was a luxury and church a necessity!
They chased hurricanes and took spontaneous cross country road trips and laughed a lot and mostly at themselves. She didn’t drive a fancy car nor did she wear designer clothes. She taught her sons the value of a dollar (with one the lesson took and with the other…) and she taught them to treat a woman with respect.
When her first grandchild arrived her heart runneth over with love and after the arrival of her last, Sammye’s life was completely fulfilled. Baseball, football, cheer and dance filled her days. Her only disappointment-- the fact that she lived five hours away. But, she soon figured out a solution and during long seasons she packed her bags and was welcomed warmly into our home. During her stays, her son (my husband) would take her out on date nights, just time for the two of them. She cooked us all our favorite meals (any sort of home cooked meal was a treat in our house) and she did loads of laundry! She refused to be a burden and insisted on working for her room and board even when we begged her to just relax--a word that wasn’t in her vocabulary.
But now, our last season is upon us and a new one is set to begin. This strong woman is not as healthy as she once was. Her diabetes and arthritis are winning their daily battles and vertigo has taken hold. Her grandchildren are recognizing that she won’t be around forever and have started hugging her a little tighter and more often. Her laughter is still contagious and often. It’s now time for us to begin driving the five hours to be with her and to enjoy the time we have left together.
We are not alone as we struggle to recognize that life does have a time limit. We want to eek out every moment we can before the final buzzer sounds. And at the end of the day, I want my mother-in-love to know that she made a difference. The wife/mother/woman and the husband/father/man we are today and the ones my daughter and sons will be tomorrow are because of her, Sammye Carolyn Traylor.
