Joint Camp...

My Mom had knee replacement a few weeks back (1/26/09). Before having the surgery, she had to go to--what the doctors call--"Joint Camp." Yeah...I laughed everytime I heard her say, "The other day at Joint Camp..." I'd bust out laughing.

These past few years have been pretty tough on her...and us. Her limp has gradually gotten worse, standing up became exhausting for her, and sitting down was painful just to watch. I can't imagine what she felt.

I remember my Grandfather (her Dad) spraying WD-40 on his knees to make them "work better." He didn't smell the best in the world, but he said it did the trick! Arthritis seems to be a plague in my family. Mom often says in reference to arthritis, "I hate Arthur. I just hate him."

So, she FINALLY made the decision to have her sixty something year old knee replaced. For her, she was both excited and nervous. For me, it was a mixture of excitement, relief, and fear...fear of something tragic happening in surgery and losing my hero. BUT...I knew her life was in our Father's Hands. I had to trust Him.

My Mom...she's a tender warrior. May not make sense to anybody else, but it sure does to me. I look at her and want to treat her with such fragile hands, but I forget what a fighter she is. I forget what this woman has been through...

Con-Con and Daddywood...those were her parents...my grandparents...and the most wonderful and hilarious people on the face of the planet. Before I go on, I gotta' explain the names. I'm sure there are some really weird faces being made right now after reading those names. It's all my oldest cousin's fault. Liz apparently couldn't pronounce "Grandmother Conner" or "Granddaddy Norwood" (yes...his name was Frank Norwood) correctly, so she invented the names "Con-Con" and "Daddywood." And no...Con-Con had no idea what that word means in Spanish and we never told her. ;-)

They weren't the richest in the world, but they weren't the poorest, either. After experiencing the Great Depression, they both learned to hold on to every nickel and dime they could get their hands on, as well as every piece of cloth and material 'cause Con-Con could sew like nobody's business. They knew how to stretch things to the limit. Daddywood worked so hard out in the fields...and he made everybody else do the same. Mom tells stories of picking cotton and staying out from sun up to sun down no matter how hot or cold it got...stories I just Love to hear because it reminds me all over again how strong my mother is.

Getting married at 19, having their first child by 20...and living with my Dad's parents. Knowing Maw-Maw and Paw-Paw, I'm sure that wasn't the easiest of times, either. They were amazing people, but they were just as tough as Con-Con and Daddywood.

At 21, they had another child...named him Chris. This birth, however, wasn't as joyous as their first. Chris was born dead. Not having the equipment they do today, there was no way for them to know he had been dead for a day or so. My Mom tells the story and it breaks my heart. She had no idea until after she gave birth and woke up from them putting her under that her child didn't make it. She watched from the hospital room as they carried Chris to the grave site...the doctors wouldn't release her to go. Perhaps what breaks my heart the most is when she talks about sharing a room with a woman who was nursing her newborn child...hearing the baby cry and listening to the mother talk to her baby...and the whole time my Mom was grieving over losing her's. Ugh...I can't imagine.

About 15 years later and four kids more, my parents had to file for bankruptcy. My Dad farmed, but no farmer could survive during those droughts. The government eventually forgave those debts due to so many farmers losing everything. My Mom taught piano and voice lessons. She had 50 to 60 students a week...and taking care of four kids, all of which played basketball, volleyball, softball, in the band, and involved in all the clubs. Whew...how did she do it?!

She led Worship at my home church, as well...still does! Been doing that for close to 40 years now, I think. She was a wife, a mother of four, taught 50 to 60 students a week, and arranged all the music for their choir and the children's Ministry...and my parents never missed any of our games. Good grief. No wonder she's crazy. ;-)

During my tenth grade year, a lot happened at my church...went through some extremely bad times. My Mom worked the hardest to be the Peacemaker, yet got attacked the most. I can remember those times...she felt so alone and cried everyday. It was horrible. It's so amazing, though...those same people have come back so many years later and apologizing every chance they get. God is Good...He takes care of everything.

October 25, 2005...the absolute worst day of our lives...the day I lost my sister. She was the oldest child...my parents had her when they were 19. She and my Mom weren't just mother/daughter...they were best friends. They grew up together. My parents...their Faith would not be shaken. Yeah...we still cry. Yeah...my Mom has her days when she questions and becomes a bit angry. We all do.

My sister and her husband and child lived in Columbus, GA...had been there for five years. We lost her on Tuesday and we had the first visitation in Columbus on Thursday. My goodness...what a crowd to pay their respects. Close to 700 came. I sat and cried most of the night. My Mom...she stood and shook every hand and hugged every neck. That Saturday, we had the final visitation and funeral in Geraldine. We were exhausted...physically, emotionally, and Spiritually. Close to 800 came that day. My Mom never sat down. With two bad knees and on the edge of collapsing from such grief, she stood and did it again...hugged every neck...shook every hand...heard every story. She did it for Melanie. Now...that's a Mom.

Every Christmas and a million people in the house...my Mom lives in that kitchen. No matter how bad her knees got and no matter how bad, sick, or exhausted she felt...she was making EVERYBODY'S favorite meals and desserts...from scratch. By the end, she would be so exhausted, but it didn't matter. She would do it all over again. She gives every bit of herself in every situation and cares nothing about getting anything in return. That's just the way she is.

I could go on and on about her...how strong, courageous, amazing, and Loving she is. She is the Proverbs 31 woman...such a woman of God. Her character, intergrity, and her passion for Christ blows me away. There is not one person that could say any negative word about her. If you meet her for only five minutes, you've been impacted and changed forever.

So many people approach me and say, "Sherrie...you come from good roots. You can't get any better than your parents." Don't I know it! The older I get, the more I understand what amazing people they are. I often tell people I was raised in the "Beaver Cleaver" home. My Dad...I Pray to marry a man just like him. My Mom...I want to be exactly who she is. If I can be close to half of what they are, I'll be doing good. I will never be able to measure up to my parents. Never.



So yeah...she had the surgery a few weeks back and is now walking around. My Dad told her she would be calling him "Hitler" by the time it was all over. They had their moments, but he's the best physical therapist she could ever have. He thinks he's a doctor, anyway. ;-) It's been so amazing to see her progress and to watch her fight her way through all the pain.

Not exactly sure how I got so Blessed to be their daughter, but man...I sure am thankful He chose me to be theirs.