My mother, Florance Holman King, known as Fritzi to all her friends, was 5 ft. tall, and weighed maybe 90 lbs. But pound for pound, she might have been one the greatest fighters I have ever known. She fought for her marriage to my dad Frank through not just one but two divorces. Yes she was willing to remarry the man even after he had left her for another woman. She believed in their marriage and was willing to fight for it over and over again. She fought for custody of her 5 children not willing to give them up even under intense financial and legal pressure from my dad. She began a fight with breast cancer when she turned 40, and even when it moved to her liver in her early 50’s she continued to fight this horrible disease until it won in 1981.

An Imperfectly Perfect Mother

My mother was not a perfect mother but frankly, who really is. She drank beer like a fish and smoked like a chimney. I remember as a little child riding with her in the land yacht we called her Plymouth Fury. Schlitze beer in one hand, Salem cigarette in the other, windows rolled up, and me jumping up and down beside her on the bench front seat. Today they would throw her in jail for this but back then that was fairly normal. When I was in my teens, I remember looking at my mother and being pretty critical of how she raised us. But that was before I got older and found out everything she was going through and it was before I understood how hard it is to raise just three kids as a husband and wife team. If anyone of us had 4 kids in 3 and a half years then another one 6 years later, all the while fighting for your marriage and then throw in there fighting cancer while raising these 5 kids on your own, God only knows what anyone of us would have done under that pressure. Not minimizing her actions, just saying I understand them better today.

Isaiah 49:15

One day the Lord highlighted a verse for me that helped me see my mom in an entirely different light. The verse was Isaiah 49:15.

¹⁵    “Can a mother forget the baby at her breast

and have no compassion on the child she has borne?

Though she may forget,

I will not forget you!

As I looked at this passage, I remember God prompting me to think about my mom.

Bam! Who was always there for me, making sure I got to every practice and making sure I had something to eat morning, noon and night. Who even tried to instill in me a knowledge of God by taking me to the early service at St. James Episcopal Church as often as I would go? As minimal as it was, it implanted something in me that blossomed later in life. My mom never ever left me or forgot about me, even in her worst times and now that I am older I realize how bad they were for her. Yet I never knew how difficult her life really was because she was always caring for me and fighting for me like she fought for her marriage and fought cancer.

My mother died only months after meeting Robbi, my soon to be bride, and a few months before we got married in 1981. I really believe she felt she could relax and quit fighting because she knew her little baby boy was now in good hands.  I only had 21 short years with my mom and I wish she were here today so I could tell her how awesome I think she was instead of the critical child who always complained about her drinking and smoking. Again I am not affirming those things but I let them define her instead of seeing she was so much more than that. She actually showed me God by never leaving me and always caring for me.