Lois
Cloyd
1934-2016
Intro. When I was a boy my Mama would make fudge. I would watch and as she
poured the hot fudge from the kettle into the dish. I would say “I get to lick the spoon”.
Trouble was there was usually a brother or sister around who also wanted to
lick the spoon. But that was not a real problem. Mother would just get a second
spoon and give each of us a spoon of the remains from the kettle. In licking
that spoon we got a foretaste of the fudge that we would get to eat after it
set up.
I have spent my life
walking in the midst of the reality of things on earth and the foretaste of the
glory divine that is to come. I grew up in church. Mother took me to church as
a two week old babe in arms. I grew up singing gospel songs. I went to Sunday
School. I heard about salvation. I heard about heaven and I knew you had to be
saved to get heaven. I heard the Bible truths about what was right and what was
wrong and how that we were supposed to live in the way that was right. I grew
up hearing about missions and prayer and stewardship. I was told that I needed
to listen to God and be obedient to whatever call God placed upon my life. I
knew all of that because that is what my Mama and Daddy taught me.
I knew that whatever
a person had here on earth was temporary. And whatever was laid up for us in
heaven was permanent. My Mama believed that and indeed that is what the Bible
teaches.
“For we know that if our temporary, earthly
dwelling is destroyed, we have a house not made with hands, an eternal dwelling
in the heavens” II Cor. 5:1
So while I have
lived my life trying to accomplish and experience a lot of things here on earth
and trying to get my share of earthly possessions, I have done so with the
acknowledgement that none of those things would last forever. That might be a
discouraging thought were it not for the foretaste I have been given of things
above.
That is the way my
Mama lived. That is the way my Mama taught me to live.
My Mother was an
ambitious soul. She worked hard to fulfill the ambitions of her soul.
Mother did not grow
up with much. She did not have wealth or stature or a wide experience of places
and things. But she wanted those things and she worked hard to acquire them.
She desired an
education. With a stroke of providence she got the opportunity. After high
school she was working as a waitress at the little restaurant in the corner of
a drug store in London. As the fall was approaching a school principle came
into the store and told my mother that another student was getting married and
was going to forfeit her scholarship to Sue Bennett College and asked mother if
she wanted it. Two years later she graduated and took a teaching job in a one
room country school with 52 kids in 8 grades.
The job did not pay
much but it was more than she had ever made and with a little money in the bank
she started buying things. She was still living with my grandparents so she
bought them a new sofa. They had never had a phone. She had one put in. When
Christmas came she proudly bought a present for every member of the family
right down to the youngest niece and nephew.
She liked teaching
but she wanted a family. Then she met my dad. Mother said the first time she
ever met Dad he was driving by on a Farmall H tractor. She said he waved at
her. One day he drove by on the tractor, saw her, stopped, turned the tractor
off, and right there, sitting on the tractor seat asked her for a date. That is
the way my Mama tells the story. If truth be known she flagged him down.
Dad always said
mother amended the details of that story. But however much the details of that
story may have been amended the fact is that 5 months later they were married.
By the time they had been married 5 years and 2 months four children had been
born. And mother had what she wanted. Throughout all of her life what she was
more proud of than anything else on earth were her four children.
As bad as the
Alzheimer’s eventually decimated her mind and body there was something in her
soul that fought hard to hold on to a remnant of that pride. About three weeks after dad died I drove to
Blacksburg to see her. I found her that day in a state of chatter. I spoke to
her and though I knew I would not be successful I tried to interact with her.
But she stared blankly ahead oblivious to my presence and chattered away.
So I sat down beside
her and for about an hour I just listened. Most of what she said made no sense
but every now and then she would string 6 or 8 words together in a sentence. As
I listened it occurred to me that there was something like a reel to reel tape
playing her mind of events that occurred 50 plus years ago. In her demented
state she was interacting with those events. I listened closely and discovered
that I was on the reel to reel tape that she was interacting with. She would
say “You know I have these two kids”. I would have been one of those two kids and
that would have dated the event around 54 or 55 years ago. Once a brief smile
came across her face as she said to one of those kids “Look at you, you are so
cute” (I am quite certain she was probably referring to me). I realized
something about my mother that day that I guess I already knew – The melody of
her life was her children. That day she gave me a gift of listening as she
recited the melody. Alzheimer’s had robbed her mind of the verses her life had
written, but she was maintaining a feeble grasp on the melody.
Yes, mother was an
ambitious soul. She wanted to have something. She wanted to be somebody. She
wanted to contribute something to the world. She wanted to be known for the
contribution she made. Mother never wanted to be just ordinary. She did not
want her children to settle for the ordinary. She determined to inspire us to
live beyond the ordinary.
Mother wanted to be
a teacher. But four children in four years had interrupted that dream. But at
the age of 32 she enrolled in classes at the University of KY to complete her
teaching degree. This meant she had to drive from Georgetown to Lexington each
day to attend class. So Dad bought mother an old brown two-tone Plymouth. It
was a big tank of a car. It had a rectangular steering wheel and push button
gear shift. Every Sunday he would put a few bucks worth of gas in it and mother
would drive it to class. Every day she would pack her lunch and put a dime in
her pocket and when classes were over for the day she would take that dime and
buy herself a coke as a reward for the days’ work. Two years later she
graduated with a Bachelor’s degree in Education from the University of KY.
Mother recognized a
teachable moment and was not about to waste it. She never wanted us to miss
school for anything. But that day she was not going to allow school to get in
the way of our education. She took us out of school dressed us up in our best
Sunday - go to meeting clothes. I had on a white sport coat and a black tie.
All that was missing was a pink carnation. Dad took all four us, 5th
grade, 4th grade, 3rd grade, and 1st grade to
mother’s graduation in memorial coliseum. We sat high up in the balcony through
a long graduation and watched my mother receive her degree. I never saw my dad
more proud or more patient than he was that day. My mother and Dad had both
paid a heavy price for that accomplishment. Afterwards we stood in the parking
lot and mother still wearing her cap and gown gathered her four children around
her and Dad took the Brownie Hawkeye camera and took a picture.
My Mama knew exactly
what she was doing that day. She was using that moment to inspire her children
to be more than ordinary. She was inspiring us to be somebody and to make a
contribution to the world.
Mother always told
us to get an education. She said that was something that no one could take away
from us. She was wrong about that. Alzheimer’s can take away your education.
Education is just as temporary as anything else on this earth. The best we can
do is leave a legacy and build a foundation that others can build upon. I think
my mother determined was through the children that she bore and reared and the
students who were entrusted to her.
Mother lived in a
lot of houses. Her home was important to her. Some of the houses she lived in
were pretty simple but she was proud of them. The first house I remember living
in was the Helvetia School house on Chaney Ridge Road in Laurel County KY. Dad
and mother bought the old School house and converted it into a home. They got
the first floor finished and ran out of money. Later dad finished two rooms
upstairs. But they never did get enough money to remodel the outside. Mother
was proud of that house but always felt like she had to apologize about the
outside of it. She would say: “The outside does not look to good but “It is
fixed up nice inside”.
We moved to
Georgetown and left that house and some of our belongings in it and about a
year later it burned down to the ground. And mother locked herself in the
bedroom and cried. One of her dreams was destroyed that day. But there would be
other houses. Some were fixer uppers and some were modern and the last one was
new. When she moved from that place she left against her will. She did not want
to go and she made sure we knew of her displeasure. I don’t blame her for being
upset. I didn’t like it either. But the Alzheimer’s was already doing its dirty
work in her mind and she needed help. She went to another house but she was
never was at home again.
The Apostle gives us
a picture that you and I are far too familiar with. He says “Indeed we groan in this body, desiring to
put on our dwelling from heaven, since we are clothed, we will not be found
naked. Indeed, we groan while we are in this tent, burdened as we are, because
we do not want to be unclothed but clothed, so that mortality may be swallowed
up by life. (II Cor. 5:2-4 – HCSB)
I have watched my
mother do a lot of groaning as everything she worked to acquire here on this
earth was slowly taken away. Her houses gone. Her education vanished. Her
dignity and glory vaporized. Her body reduced to a shell.
If that is all there
is then life is a cruel joke.
But my Mama lived in
this world but in faith she longed for the world beyond. She dwelt here. But
she lived for God. Her hope was in the Lord Jesus Christ. Thus the Spirit of
God had given her a foretaste of glory divine in the world to come.
Everything on this
earth is temporary and everything in heaven is permanent. Paul said “For we know that if our temporary, earthly
dwelling is destroyed, we have a house not made with hands, an eternal dwelling
in the heavens” II Cor. 5:1
I am a little sad
today. But forgive me if my tears are few. Because seeing what I have seen and
knowing what I know I don’t want to cry but I want to shout “Hallelujah, Hallelujah, what a savior”.
If mother were here
she would try to help us put this day in perspective. And I know just how she
would do it. She would write us a poem. But since she cannot write a poem I
decided to write one for her. I tried to wrap my mind around her life. I tried
to understand who she was and who she became and who she is now. I loaned her
my mind and my pen. Here is the perspective that I think she might convey to us
today.
I Can
Remember
By C. Brent Cloyd
Once I could recall every birthday
To places I had been I knew the way
From memory I could sing gospel
songs
I knew each verse, not a word would
be wrong
I taught children to say the
alphabet
A basic in life they must not
forget
I helped them learn to add and to
subtract
To multiply, divide, and be exact
I could organize a holiday meal
Entertain family and friends with
zeal
Clean house, set the table, and
decorate
Cook all the fixins and never be
late
But then I would forget and be
confused
From activities I myself excused
Alzheimer’s stole my dignity and
glory
My life began a different story
My soul filled with pain, denial, and
tears
As the disease tarnished my golden
years
My heart beat but I could not
remember
Nothing was left but a dying ember
You visited me but I never knew
My moments of understanding were
few
The world became small, I rarely
cracked a smile
Lonely, I lingered, through this
earthly trial
Then God’s angel came in death and
in love
We made the trip to the promised
place above
I met Jesus, I worshipped and
adored
He gave me a house I could not
afford
I’ve met the neighbors, I know them
by name
Seen old friends, now some new ones
I can claim
I’ve not been here long but it
feels like home
I know where I am, not afraid to
roam
So don’t cry for me, but laugh and
rejoice
I am singing hymns with new mind
and voice
Of the heavenly choir I’m a member
And every song I can remember
