Sylvia McMurrain

The sweetest lady I have ever known has gone to be with the angels. Her suffering is over, and her spirit is soaring in the heavens.

The Lord blessed us with a wonderful mother, whose guiding hands helped mold me into the man I am today, and whose spirit will continue to guide me in raising my own children. I don’t remember her ever raising her voice or speaking to me in anger.

Of course, she did all the things a good mother is supposed to do, but she also did so much more. It is said a parent’s most important job is to teach their kids to make the right decisions, and that is just what she did. She always gave me the freedom to learn while still making sure I was never too far out.

We had a home-cooked meal at the dining table every night as a family. Dinner discussions always involved the whole family, and without distractions from television or telephones.

Our house was the one where the neighborhood kids came to play.

I never missed a Scout meeting. She was never too busy for anything that my brother or I needed.

She cared about everyone. She remembered details about my friends that I had long forgotten. She would see something in a store that would remind her of someone, and would get it for them. She was a great cook; I use her recipes to this day for my favorite meals.

My brother Brett, Mom, and Me

Sitting here thinking back over the years, memory after wonderful memory is as clear to me now as it was so many years ago. Some random memories:

After we started school, she joined a local women’s tennis league, and was a great player. I remember all of the trophies on her dresser.

Her discipline was never unwarranted or excessive, but her expertise with the Wooden Spoon extended beyond cooking! Long after I had grown up, she replaced her refrigerator and found umpteen wooden spoons back there. Wonder how that happened?

A few years ago she gave me a shirt for Christmas that read, “I am my Mom’s favorite son!”. My brother got one as well.

When was about 6 or 7 years old, I found a receptacle plate cover in a kitchen drawer. Knowing I had a cracked one in my room, I proceeded to take a screwdriver and remove the cracked cover plate from the outlet in my bedroom. Just after I took it off, she walked by and I said, “Mommy, look at this.”. She took one look at me with a screwdriver in one hand, and electrical plate in the other, and an exposed outlet on the wall and said, “You put that back together RIGHT NOW!”. I never did let her live that one down!

I turned my sandbox into a mud box on many occasions and got muddier than any kid should be allowed, but it never bothered her in the least. I just hosed off outside and continued playing.

That’s all I can say now. I am having a hard time seeing the screen.

I love you, Mom.