Loving Patience!

Okay, it is true, we were slobs. Not everyone, just 3 of us were slobs, and not complete slobs but just generally messy. We weren't messy in the same way nor at the same time, but nevertheless being neat was at the bottom of the list of importance. The fourth member of the family was the organized and tidy one. The 3 boys were "creatively organized" and the mother was fastidious. It made for a tough household situation, but somehow she dealt with it magnificently with great patience and a loving guiding hand that only a Mother knows how to manage. 3 against 1, what great possibilities for battles, disagreements, contentiousness, and maybe family war that could be, and yet, what really happened? A glare, or a few words and she usually won!

Yes, there were the frequent speeches about picking up our clothes, making our beds, sweeping the garage, taking our dishes to the kitchen, wiping up the messes, being more careful, fixing the cushions, picking up the toys, putting the balls in the closet, wiping our feet, taking off the occasional wet shoes, and unraveling the latest wild invention such as the automatic bed maker, the clothes shaper for ease of dressing, and the new object designed for making noise. Later years included picking up musical instrument paraphernalia such as slide grease, valve oil, mouthpieces, hand guards, water bottles, manuscript paper, music, records, and a seemingly unlimited supply of books.

On top of this chaos of fun, knowledge, and creativity, we 3 led very busy lives requiring quick meals, transportation to and fro, rehearsals, lessons, games, eventually dates (well, 2 of us anyway had dates), and an infinite number of church obligations from ranging from services, fellowships, practices, various socials, Royal Ambassadors, and even meetings. My father, with memberships in the Optimist Club, Credit Union board, Community Band, various civic organizations, and two jobs received the most attention but his two boys were close behind, and in different but oddly similar ways, remained exceedingly active throughout their formative years.

The abundant flowing of creative ideas in my home were matched by a roller coaster of emotional ups and downs--easy to imagine with 2 messy sons and 1 messy husband who never seemed to run out of a new ideas--with an ever-present blanket of love that enveloped our household regardless of the circumstances. We were not afraid to fail, not afraid to try, and always willing to take a risk for the moments of success. This energetic, intense application of all endeavors resulted in occasional tears of sorrow and, more importantly, the sharing of a multitude of joys and excitement when something worked out as hoped. When I think back on growing up in the Tucker home, I am humbled and amazed at the complexity that surrounded our lives.

But behind it all stood a woman with immense patience and tolerance who made the events, situations, and mostly success possible. My mother. Breakfast every morning, dinner on the table every evening, clean up quickly without help, rush a boy to an event, return to bring him home, get the boys in bed, wait up for them in later years, clean the house, wash the dishes, fold the clothes, hug the boy when appropriate, scold when needed, and mostly stabilize what could have been constant creative chaos. She was infinitely patient and hard-working and mostly supportive of her right-brained family, and while she may not have understood the excessive originality of each boy, one of which was her husband, she somehow respected it, and encouraged the gifts rather than stifled them. In addition, she eventually had her own successful career, which continues today with the not unexpected selflessness of her life as a wife and mother shining forth in her current activities as a college teacher.

How she put up with us, I will never know. We probably rarely helped around the house, and, of course we were much too busy to ever cook or clean up, and staying organized was a total mystery to the three of us, but somehow she kept up with our lives, our schedules, our personalities, and unconditionally offered us motherly love and attention. Thanks to my mother and all mothers who put up with so much.

I must laugh as I hear my wife remind us, 4 boys this time, to clean up our mess, make the beds, straighten the office, take off the wet shoes, and sweep the garage, and I marvel at her ability to scold when needed, and hug when appropriate. I guess nothing ever changes the constant devoted love of a wonderful wife and mother!