As many of you know, my mom passed away back in January. Jane Hutchison Burnette was a devoted daughter, wife, mother, grandmother, sister in law, aunt, cousin, and friend to hundreds of us on this Earth. She liked to cook, for others. She steadfastly prayed, for others. She taught many years. First as a social studies teacher, eventually at what was way back then Burney-Harris Middle School off of Broad Street in Athens before stepping aside to be a full time mom. Then later, as an ESOL teacher before retiring to be a full time grandmother.
She could sew, cook, bake, and was as religious about walking for exercise as she was about her faith in our God. She liked a good old-fashioned, a crisp martini, a chilled glass of wine, a good book, an endearing British tv show...and even read her eldest son's blawg on occasion.
Which is why this tribute will be housed here. Not sure if God foots the bill for Wifi (and in so many ways I'm hopeful and certain He doesn't), but if not I know there are many who may enjoy some words about her.
Just know, this is mostly for me.
In a great way, my Mom is the reason I enjoy writing. I can't type that without paying tribute to Dad. After all, he is the retired English teacher. Some of you may have had him for English class if you travelled through Cedar Shoals High School as a teenager. Eventually he settled in Clemson and tortured upstate kids with British Lit and writing workshops. He's published one book and is currently working on the sequel!
But it was one summer break as a seven year old when Mom had me making homemade books and then filling their pages with stories. My days as an only child were soon to end. And it's safe to assume when a woman is 8 months pregnant she wants to stay indoors and avoid that Georgia heat and humidity as much as possible. So, we'd make bread pizzas, pitchers of sweet tea and Kool-Aid, make homemade hardbacks, and then I'd fill them with words.
The last few months I've found many moments reflecting back on my memories of Mom. There's a LOT of recipes of course. I'll never use another lasagna recipe that isn't hers. There was our first Christmas in a house with a fireplace. It was 75 degrees outside, but she insisted on a fire to gaze at and hear the pop! Having a roaring fire while the windows are open is a memory that'll never fade. (sidenote: Mom loved Christmas! So much so that as I sit here typing I have Christmas Carol earworms on repeat.)
I had my first (legal) margarita with Mom. She took me to La Fiesta on College Station Rd. Not sure if it is still there, but they indeed carded me. Speaking of margaritas, when I took the future Mrs. BernieDawg home to meet the parents, we entered the kitchen just as she was slurping a spilled margarita off of the countertop! No surprise, she often was the life of the party.
Mom took to parenthood with open arms, literally and figuratively. She was instrumental in forming us into who were are today, especially my younger sisters as they have entered motherhood along their mother's path. And of course she adored being a grandmother, the littles' Ya-Ya. A woman who could do so much, I truly believe she was put on this Earth to be a mother and grandmother, first and foremost.
As the oldest, I have 55 years of memories with Mom. I feel lucky, even though I wanted more. Along the way, there were so many walks, celebrations, happy hours, Sunday dinners, laughs, tears, strife, hugs, beach chair chats, and life lessons. I'll miss sharing those things with her.
I'll miss our phone chats too. Long ago I snuck into her phone and changed my name in her contacts to The Dude. All these years and she never changed it back. So when I'd call she'd pick up, "Hey Dude!" Then she'd update me on any comings or goings since our last conversation. Her last text to me:"Have a good weekend!! Love you back again and more 💓💓💓 Love to Jenn & the girls!"
Occasionally I have moments when I pick up the phone to send her a text., share a picture with her. I suppose that will fade with time. But our family is big on passing down important things, like southern recipes, traditions, and of course precious memories.
Rest easy dear Lady! Your work on Earth is done. And know that I have already started one of your treasured Prayer Lists, and will do everything I can to carry on, close to your path.
Love ya Mom!
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Tshirt blanket, Mom's last Christmas gift to me |
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Mom and Dad bookending the grands |