Why I Pray In The Shower

Awhile back, I posted my first Amazon.com review for my book and thought I would share one from barnesandnoble.com. I appreciate what the person Anonymous said in it, and I like that it was on BARNES & NOBLE. “This is a wonderful book, highly recommend it. Darryl is so open and honest in his writing and accounts of his life both before and after his drinking days. He never preaches or comes across condescending at all. He writes in such a way that I was hooked and kept reading to see what happened next. He is also a testimonial to growth and self improvement. Anyone with a drinking problem would be helped by reading this. The personal story of overcoming problems and growing into self love and confidence, all without alcohol, should give many a sense of hope.”

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It can be devastating to lose a parent, and some people never get over it. There are those, however, that while greatly affected by the loss go through the natural grieving process and eventually accept it.  Having recently loss my mother, who was 73 years old and in failing health, I can understand the feelings of devastation I mentioned because I miss my mother far more than I thought I would. Fortunately, however, remembering how much she always loved me, and that she always knew how much I loved her, helps me handle the overwhelming feelings of loss. What also helps me cope with the loss I feel are three great memories I have of my mom. The first , and my earliest memory is when I was four years old.  My parents and I lived in an old row home that for a little boy with a vivid imagination like I had could be scary at times, especially when going upstairs to the bathroom by myself.  By the time I reached the top of the old wooden stairs that creaked and led almost directly to the small dark bathroom, I was already calling out to my mother so I could hear her voice and feel more secure on my venture. “Mom!” I would yell. “Yes Darryl?” She would ask. “What are you doin?” “Watching TV” she’d answer in a voice that said she knew what was coming next. “Mom!” I would start again as I stood in front of the commode getting ready to do what I went up there for. “Yes Darryl? She would patiently ask again. “Do you love me?” Her standard answer was always “Yes I love you, now hurry up and get done.” When I was done, I would ask her something else while quickly flushing the toilet and running out of the bathroom toward the stairs. Although by this time her patience would become somewhat diminished, she would still always answer me back. I’m fairly certain I’d ask yet another question on my way down the steps, but I am entirely certain of one thing. When I got back to our front room and saw her sitting there watching TV, I wasn’t scared anymore. The second memory I have, and one of the most recent ones is when my mom and dad visited me and my wife over Father’s Day this year.  Just after their arrival we all sat on the deck out in front of our place, and talked for awhile. What made this memorable was the fact that I sat beside my mom and the whole time we were sitting there talking, she was holding my hand and rubbing it with her thumb. Now this wasn’t all that unusual as she had done it at other times when we were together, but this time she did it in such a way that I could tell she wanted me to know she was doing it. This wasn’t the most significant part of this visit though, or the most significant part of this memory. My mom had lost a lot of weight over the years which was mostly due to emphysema from smoking.  Although she had always been a very pretty woman, she was never entirely happy with her looks, and the weight loss greatly added to the unhappiness she felt about her appearance. This often hindered her in finding clothes to wear, and she had remarked during the visit that she was upset because she couldn’t find anything nice to wear to my son’s upcoming wedding. On the day before my parents left, however, my wife and dad and I took her shopping determined to find something she could wear for the wedding. My wife, who is good at picking out apparel for herself and me, found a beautiful little black and white dress with an appealing pattern, and a dark colored shawl that matched very well it. At first, I could tell she wasn’t sure about the two selections my wife made, but I told her to go try the dress and shawl on before she said no. While she was in changing, we all stood outside the dressing room area waiting for her along with two young ladies that worked there. I had been carrying on with the two of them, and I had told them how hard it was to please my mom when it came to clothing.  After she came out, she stood there and raised her forearms and upturned hands toward us with an expression on her face that asked. “Well, how do I look?” Everyone was silent for a few seconds because of how eloquent she looked standing there in that dress and shawl, and then one by one we all told her how good she looked.  I could tell by her reaction that she was satisfied and even happy. After shopping we went out to eat, and eventually ended the day on a very happy note. My mom and dad would leave the following day, and that would be the last time I would see my mom which brings me to the third great memory of her. It came during the last day of my visit with my father after my mother’s passing. We were in their bedroom looking at different things of my mom’s and talking when my dad walked over to the closet and pulled out the dress and shawl my wife had picked out for my mom. “Here’s that dress she liked” he said, and started to cry as he added. “She was so happy to finally have something to wear to the wedding.”  I immediately began crying as well, and took the dress from his hands to look closer at it. I then held the dress and shawl close to my body actually hugging it, and with my eyes closed, I began sobbing out loud. Only a few seconds passed when for some reason I opened my eyes and saw something that actually made me smile a little. I was standing in front of a long vertical mirror attached to the door of another smaller closet and because of the way I was holding and hugging the dress and shawl, it looked like I was wearing the combination. I told my dad that mom would have laughed at this, and he agreed. To me, this would be one more time I got to hug my mom, and because of that dress, it won’t be the last. Below is a song that has significance in my relationship with my mother.

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The above title is the one I am planning on using for my speaking engagements.  I know I will reach the people I’m supposed to through My Voice, My Beliefs, and Creating Our Path.

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