As a man of 72 years of age, you might think that I have seen it all, but I haven’t yet.

I go back many times to when I was growing up in a large family, and I feel good about what I received. I was blessed to have a mother who took care of our needs all of our young lives, until that time when we could contribute our part. I had a father who was a man of strict thinking, and he held a firm hand when he had to.

Of course, with him working at his job so that his family had a place to live and food in our bellies, we did not see him as much as we saw our mother. That meant that she had to have complete control of her family, both as a protector and as a mother.

She was a woman of love who gave her all for us. Mom was one of the pioneers of yesterday, who grew up with a very strict mother and a father. They died early in her life.

She was a lady in all sense of the word. She stood her ground yet showed emotion while doing it. She and our father married at an early age, and together they formed a bond of love that she transferred to all of us in the family. She never really had many goodies in her life because, for her, it was her man and her children who came first.

I can still see her with her apron on, standing over a hot cook stove, keeping an eye on the beans while her taters were cooking. There was either cornbread or biscuits in the oven, and she always had the margarine close by to flavor the food. She always had chunks of onions for those who liked them, and the coffee pot was brewing all the time. With a little smile from her, you had a meal good enough for kings.

I remember many times while we were getting ready for school, she would be there in front of that hot stove frying bacon or ham, along with eggs, sunny-side up or scrambled. Always there were her soda biscuits ready to pop some jelly or butter on, and pancakes for those who wanted them. Mom was a great cook because she had a lot of practice, and she sent her love with each plateful to her family.

Now, I know you are thinking that I am bragging about my mother, and you are correct because I am. Mothers are the link between God and the children of the world.

Mom was a lady who enjoyed playing the piano and telling stories. When a neighborhood kid was at the house, she made sure that he or she was safe from any harm. Mom was liked by the families in our area because she watched out for them and she treated all fairly.

Sometimes this old man goes back in time to move the memories forward. That is what memories are, a picture of what it was like in the “days of old.” There still are a lot more pictures to look at, and you will see more about Mom and about my father, who worked hard at his job so that we could be nourished with warmth, food and a home.

I saw Dad in a different light when I grew up. I saw why he was so tired.

Yes, I do like to write about my parents, as I am sure that each of you has some great memories of your family. It is not unusual for me to sit back, close my eyes and talk to Mom and Dad in my mind. And you can catch me going to the cemetery to stand before their markers and say, “Thanks, Mom and Dad, for everything you did.”

Dad was called Home in 1979, and Mom was called Home in 1982. They did their mission well while here. Our family was truly blessed having them.

Ray “Uncle Ray” Day is a weekly contributor to the Kokomo Tribune. Contact him at (765) 457-3819 or uncleray@earthlink.net.