Ira's Ma

Ira's best friend's mom died. Six weeks ago his same best friend's brother died. This poor family has been through so much as I 'm sure you can imagine.

I have not blogged in a while as I have been helping with the grandkids of the sweet woman. We also had a spring break somewhere in there, too. She had been ill before and was doing well. But the doctor told Troy and his sister that the emotional stress of his brother's passing did not help her immune system with her illness. A mother laying a second child to rest, understood. Her first son died a year ago. After only one week from her son's funeral, she too was in the hospital.

Ira and Troy met through another mutual friend before high school. But they were on the golf team together all four years in high school. They have played golf with each other and have been to PGA business school together, annual meetings and everything else PGA. They traveled together for tournaments and have been each other's coach, alternate, co-worker, ride when needed, and team member for years.

Now, think with me to your own friend that was your best "bud" in high school and about that person's mom. No doubt she picked you up from school a time or two and no doubt you ate some of her cooking when you spent the night or came home from school with your bud. That friend's mom would have been a mom to you in many ways, wouldn't she? Ira called Troy's mom, "Ma". It is also what he calls my mom, his mother-in-law. He loved her very much and this has been a terrible thing for his friend to go through, but difficult for Ira as well.

Ira has very fond memories of his friend Troy's family. Troy is white and Ira is black. Ira told me about the first time he went to Troy's house. Ira was nervous as this was the first non-white friend's house he spent the night at. He wondered about white families and their households and what "they" do.

He said he was so pleasantly surprised that they watched the same t.v. shows. And the living rooms had the same kind of furniture and t.v.'s. Two chairs in front of the t.v. and a sofa along the wall. Except for the huge rug of Jesus above Ira's mom's couch, he said everything was the same. Except the food. Ira's mom fried a lot of chicken. He was happy to be fed homemade hamburgers and french fries. Not that Ira's mom didn't make homemade hamburgers and french fries, well, actually... she didn't. Ira's sisters did, though. But he said he was glad to have a break from chicken just the same.

He said he saw that everything in the refrigerator was the same. Same bologna, same cold water pitcher from Tupperware, same Parkay margarine, everything. I asked him what he expected and he said he really didn't know. He just thought, well, he didn't know. That we were told we were different, white families and black families. But he was said, "I knew all along we were the same".

He said, he was even happy to see his friend Troy's dad sitting in front of said t.v. in said chair watching the same show (Archie Bunker) at the same time that he KNEW his dad was watching it in the chair in the same place in their living room.

He saw his friend's dad get mad at his friend's brothers and heard him yell at them, like his dad would have done. All he kept saying while telling me this story was, "I just knew it". I asked, "knew what" and he said, "that we really are all the same".

Being a mom "nowadays" we wouldn't dream of not kindly hosting one of our youngster's friends that was different than we are in any other way, right? I think back to Troy's mom and how nice she was to Ira, Troy's friend. Things were different then. But Ira said she hugged and kissed him hello and good-bye just like everyone else in her family. She did the same with our children because of course, she was a good grandma, too.

So, please pray for Troy and his sister as they lay to rest their mom tomorrow. And please include the rest of us he loved her and will miss her, too.