HEARTH & HOME
Being There
on Mother’s Day
By Donald Broughton
W
hen I was 5-1/2 years old, I was visited by the
largest single tragedy of my life. But over
the next 40-plus years, it would become the
largest blessing of my life.
I knew she was sick. I knew she was taking
long naps, and I was being scolded for waking her up. I knew that even
when she was sleeping during the day, I wanted to be with her, whether
playing with my toys on the floor in her room, or lying as quietly as I
could in the bed next to her. I didn’t consciously know it, but it was the
first time in my life that I sensed the moment was fleeting. Then, they
took her to the hospital.
Straight out of central casting, it was a cold rainy day in March. The
tired, bleary-eyed look on my dad’s face said it all. I think it was his
mother – my grandmother - who first spoke, “Your mommy has gone
to heaven.” He said nothing. My aunt joined in, “She loved you so much!
She’s your guardian angel now, still looking out for you.” My dad looked
at me with the saddest eyes I’d ever seen. She was his high school and
college sweetheart, and he looked as if he thought it was somehow his
fault that cancer had stripped her away from us.
I remember walking outside and looking at the daffodils in the yard
- my favorite flower to this day. I remember looking up at the sky, trying
to imagine exactly where heaven was and which cloud she might be
hiding behind.
That summer, my paternal grandparents took me on an "Abraham
Lincoln trip." We visited one historical site after another, with my
grandmother whispering in my ear, “Lincoln’s mommy died when he was
a little boy, and he went on to become president, free millions of souls
from slavery, change the course of history, and make the world a better
place.” The message was clear: He didn’t let the death of his mother stop
him and neither should you. I was blessed with that message.
Most of us experience unconditional love for the first time from our
mom. Instead, I experienced it from my grandmothers and aunts, who
all rushed in to try and fill the void my mom left behind. I was blessed by
a clear understanding of how brief and precious life is. In the years that
ensued, I was increasingly aware of how young she was when she died.
It blessed me with a sense of purpose to do something with my life. It
blessed me with a sense of urgency, and doing something in the time I
had on this earth became second nature.
My aunt was right: I was blessed with a guardian angel. I expected her
to help me, and again and again, she did. Wherever I went, whatever I
did, there seemed to always be somebody or something looking out for
me. To this day, although she has been gone for many years, she is still
there. Some would credit my eternal optimism for my good fortune, but
whether it was my guardian angel or my ever-positive outlook, I know
that I am blessed.
I remember when I reached the same age she was when she died.
I remember when my own sons were 5-1/2, and 1-1/2; the ages of me
and my brother when she died. I was blessed to realize how precious
my sons are, and for a moment, appreciate the pain she must have felt
leaving us.
Many of my friends and peers have reached the age their mothers
were when they died, or have mothers who are now in poor health. To
all of them I want to say, “Hold her hand and tell her how much she
means to you. Bless her for blessing you. Tell her how grateful you are
that she was there to see you grow up. Or if not, thank her for being
there, anyway. May is the month we thank all the mothers for being
there in the many ways that they can be. “Thanks, Mom. I love you!”
As founder and managing partner of Broughton Capital, Broughton is a frequent guest on
CNBC, “Nightly Business Report”and Fox. He is regularly quoted in The Wall Street Journal,
where he is also recognized as a top stock picker, as he is by Fortune, Zacks and StarMine.
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