Montera Mary Hoover Long
July 10, 2021 would have been my mom’s 88th birthday. Her birth name was Montera Mary Hoover. Her death name was Montera Mary Long. She died in 2007 when I was in grad school. That was a challenge. I always honor her on her birthday with some kind story that recounts her many deeds and virtues. These are my 2021 Mom Stories.
Enjoy! And, in the comments please leave your Mom Stories. (Equity note: I do the same thing for my dad and you can find my Dad Stories on medium and my Facebook page).
Montera Mom
When I was 12, we lived in Satellite Beach, FL when my dad was stationed at Patrick Air Force Base. We had not watched TV since we left Midwest City, OK for Darmstadt, West Germany in 1964. We saw a lot of mind-spinning stuff for kids in those first heady TV access years. I’ll never forget the evening we saw Tom Jones sing. He had his own show. He was sex on wheels with an expensive cologne-scented jet pack. Even at 12, I felt that. The women in the audience were throwing their underwear at him…on prime time TV (ABC to be exact). I asked my mother about that. She said, “look at him!”
That was my mom. Catholic
but passionate.
Supreme Court Justice Mom
My mother was also a neutral observer and adjudicator in any conflict situation she observed. Here is an example.
I was a handful as a kid. I could learn rules and follow them, but if someone transgressed a rule I had learned, I’d go all child-warrior on their butts. Well, you can imagine I was inappropriate more than a few times.
Once upon an elementary school time, one of my friends had committed some kind of transgression against social equity (the Air Force taught my parents, and me and my siblings about this very important social behavior), and I gave her a tongue-lashing that had her in tears.
Well, that was inappropriate. We were in Oklahoma in the early ’60s and neither the child nor Southern Society had ever received equity training.
My mom quickly assessed the situation, placed me over her lap and proceeded to spank me in full view of the child I had lashed.
I learned not to inappropriately tongue-lash on that day.
Thank.You.Mom!
Warrior Mom
My mother was an empath, soft as a whisper inside her mind and heart, but she was a warrior tried and true. Woe be to those who did wrong to her or her family. How do you combine empath and warrior in one person? Well, here is how she did it.
When the local grocer’s cashier squeezed her fourteen-year-old breast, she took her 6 foot plus 3 former Army brother to advise him on the proper way to treat a lady. Problem. Solved. Always, work with your team method utilized expertly. Master of Warrior Status conferred.
Is a local child conflicting with your child? Is the conflict the usual kid thing, dominance being established?
The Empath/Warrior Mom I was gifted with by birth showed me how to win in a fist fight.
I won just one fight in this manner and dominance was established among the kids my competitor and I ran with.
Thank.You.Mom!
Unsinkable Molly Brown Mom
As an Air Force Wife my mom grew accustomed to driving in excellent and terrifying circumstances with aplomb. While dad was on temporary duty (TDY), she took my infant bro to an ER in Puerto Rico in 1961 in the early a.m. during the kind of fierce, sudden rain common to our locality. Like it was easy. Sure, she would fuss later, but she did that. She made it work. My baby bro was healed and life went on among the sun and tides of a magical island.
When we were stationed at Patrick Air Force Base in Florida, my dad worked on the downrange communication arrays that tracked the first manned missions to the moon. He was on TDY in Key West and we lived close enough that our fam could drive down and spend a weekend with him…well, my mom could drive down, and she did. Florida in the late 60s and early 70s was a strip mall between St. Augustine and Key West. That was fine. We enjoyed the sights and food on the way to Key West. Strip malls were much more fun in those days. Maybe we just weren’t tired of them way back then. Anyway, what no one prepared any of us for was the 23 mile long bridge over open water between two of the Keys. My mom drove those 23 miles in one of the sudden fierce rainstorms common to the Florida coast. Open water. Driving rain. Mom holding it together as she expertly steered among the winds and torrents of water. We made it to the next Key’s safety at last.
We had a great time in Key West with Dad.
Thank.You.Mom!
Summer, 2007, probably six months before her death. Love you mom!
Last Mom Story for this Year
We were burying my father next to my brother. My mother was standing next to me after the ceremony was over and people had mostly left. She said, “I don’t want you to forget me when I am gone, or them. Put flowers on our graves.” I choked back the inappropriate laugh I had learned to choke back over the many years of her expert sensitivity training. I just nodded my head and said, “of course.”
But, I still laugh because she said, “I don’t want you to forget me when I am gone, or them.”
I will forget her and them when I am dead, and not a second sooner.
Family photo when we were all alive. Mom, Dad, and Ed (far right) are all dead now. I still remember them and all our great times together. The bad times have poofed from my memory. My memory of them keeps me going and keeps making life worth living.
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This post was previously published on medium.com.
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All Images: Teresa D Hawkes, Ph.D.(Author)
