Lessons in good living

It is Sunday evening and I just spent part of my 54th Mother’s Day with my mother. I am blessed to have such a wonderful mother. She gave me so much that I don’t deserve that I often take for granted. Of course, she gave me life, but she also gave me seven siblings. Growing up, I often thought my parents were crazy for having eight children, but when we gather as a family as we do frequently, I count the blessings of a large family. 

I can only remember my mother using a profane word on one occasion. It kind of slipped out and we all kind of laughed when she used the word, although it was barely profane. I can’t imagine that while raising eight children she was tempted to use a word or two on occasion, but she didn’t. 

Someone wise once said that it is amazing how much more intelligent your parents become as you get older, but I must confess that I knew at a young age how smart my mother was. She did go to college at CMSU (now Central Missouri University), but her wisdom does not come from the books you study in college. Most of her wisdom comes from reading the best book ever written. My mother’s Bible is well worn as she reads it daily. In fact, we live close enough that each night as I turn out the lights to begin my slumber, I often can see her bedroom light and I know that she is either reading her Bible or praying. I suspect that I have been the subject of more than one of her prayers, if not daily.

What could be more comforting than a mother’s prayer?

As I have said, I knew at a young age how intelligent my mother was. I was about 13 years old when I was running with the wrong group of boys. It became apparent one day after school when several of us had the bright idea of throwing tomatoes at passing automobiles. Unfortunately, one of my throws caught the eye of one of my mother’s friends from church. I don’t remember my mother yelling at me, and I am not sure she ever told my father, which is a good thing because he had a temper, and I think I would have felt his wrath on my backside. 

When I returned home with a sore arm from my afternoon of heaving tomatoes, my mother sat me down and kindly and gently informed me that I had a choice to make. I could continue to run around with that same group of boys and continue to get into trouble and I would some day regret it, or I could say good bye to the bad influences and start a different path in my life. I took the path less traveled and it was painful as I had to abandon childhood friendships that were not good for me.

I have thought about that day on many occasions and have been thankful that I am who I am because of the gentle influence of a loving mother.

My mother is a remarkable woman. She still teaches Sunday School and has a heart for missions. She has influenced countless people in her life.

I am going to brag on her a bit also. Although I don’t know how to compare her to others, I suspect many who do know would tell you that my mother is one of the leading experts in the country on parliamentary procedure. 

I should know how she became interested in parliamentary procedure, but I don’t. She probably became interested in Robert’s Rules of Order as she was trying to bring order to a house full of children. Our next-door neighbors, the Sterretts, also had eight children, and so there was always a lot of activity at the Buckley household. Maybe out of chaos came the search for order.  

Whether she refined her skills in that chaos or not, I don’t know, but I do know that she knows how to keep order in a big meeting. Large groups have sought out her services. She still attends annual meetings of the National Association of Postmasters and bi-annual meetings of the American Postal Workers’ Union as she has served as their parliamentarian for years. At one time, she was the parliamentarian for the American College of Radiology and a large nursing organization. 

As I have moderated various meetings in my life, I have often commented that I am glad my mother is not present as she would probably gently point out the many errors I have made in running meetings. My pastor, Bob Spradling, has told me on more than one occasion how she guided him through some tumultuous times when he was moderator of the Blue River Association of Baptist Churches in Kansas City.

I was on an airplane Sunday reading various Mother’s Day columns by syndicated columnists. One of them in the New York Times told about a television commercial that the famous Alabama football coach, Bear Bryant, once did for the local telephone company. The commercial was supposed to be Bear Bryant asking people if they had called their mommas, but when the tape was rolling, he asked: “Have you called your mama today? I sure wish I could call mine.” 

I don’t call my mother enough. I am the lawyer that I am today in large part because of a mother’s influence. Every day should be Mother’s Day.