From spitfire to sweetheart: Celebrating a mother’s many sides
Guest Commentary by Rebecca Cooney
My mother is Claudia Rae Williams. She was born in 1940. My dad sometimes calls her Willie. She rolls her eyes. She was raised in the Bakersfield, California, area, but her parents are from Oklahoma and Texas.
Mom self-describes herself as an “Okie from Muskogee” — an homage to Merle Haggard — writer of the 1969 ditty and childhood friend of my father.
Phrases like these inspired me to create a little thing I call “Claudia-isms.” I’ll give you a taste.
| Phrase | What it means to Claudia |
| “Hells catoot!” | She is angry or in protest of some injustice. |
| “Damnation!” | She probably stubbed her toe, forgot something or just wants to vent. |
| “I have enough food here to feed Custer’s army” | She has made so much food — there is no way we can eat it all (I won’t dare point out that Custer’s army was made up of about 210 men — an underwhelming number). |
| “For the love of mud” | This is said in exacerbation. She is fed up. |
| “What in tarnation?” | Her version of “what the hell?” |
| “If you had a brain — you would be dangerous” | Another charming insult when we did something stupid. |
| “Hold your water” | Her way of saying hold on, wait or be patient. |
I have never personally adopted this slang in my vocabulary — but I treasure them as uniquely hers.
Her personality and many roles
Claudia is a pistol. She can be loving, caring and giving at one moment and then shift suddenly into a full sass-box, demanding little spitfire. I have seen this woman go toe to toe with another driver in a parking lot in a battle for a space, tear down the confidence of a shop clerk who sold my junior prom dress that was on hold and take on my Stanford-educated father in a fully-formed debate on all manner of topics. She is a Boggle enthusiast, Scrabble champion and relentless Canasta player. We used to leave the house when the parents went head-to-head.
In her prime mom-years, she played tennis, led women’s Bible study and hauled us around to doctor’s appointments and every school and church function. She volunteered for our clubs, made us practice piano and taught us how to drive. She was always there — sitting in the bleachers, camera in hand — cheering us on at a stream of endless music recitals, choir concerts, sports events and plays.
As my siblings and I got older and forged our own paths, she pivoted into new roles of mentor, coach and grandma. She and I have not always seen eye to eye. We weathered rough patches during shifts of faith, differing political viewpoints, child-rearing and my failed first marriage. Through times of immense love and periods of sadness and distance — we always found our way back to each other.
A recent conversation
A few months ago, I caught her on one of her more alert and sassy days so I asked her a few questions. Here is what she said:
Q: What is your happiest memory of “us?”
A: Anything where you were performing — cheerleading, plays, gymnastics and talent shows.
Q: What do you want most for your kids?
A: Happy marriages. Happy lives.
Q: What has been the best and worst parts about getting older?
A: The best part has been having dad as my caregiver, having money to live on and helping each other through the rough spots. The worst part is not having the energy and stamina I once had, facing health problems and losing friends.
Q: What is one thing you want me to always remember after you are gone?
A: How much we loved our marriage and how much we love you.
At age 83, mom is suffering from chronic urinary tract and kidney infections. She is in and out of the hospital every couple of months. She is in decline and may not be with us much longer. I must prepare my heart to let her go. We have loved and laughed. We have struggled and recovered. Thank you for never fully letting me go. I love you my sweet mama.
The views expressed in this opinion column are those of the author and do not necessarily reflect the views of FāVS News. FāVS News values diverse perspectives and thoughtful analysis on matters of faith and spirituality.
