Yo Mama Don't Dance...

Mother would never, ever lay claim to any of the Gifts, or Offices, the Apostle Paul delineated in 1 Corinthians 12:6.  Only modestly might she have given a nod to the "ministry of helps" appellation.  As a kid, I had no idea how Mother knew so much! I thought she must've been like the "Madam Zola" mind readers who occupied small storefronts on Chicago's Southside.  Except they got paid for "fortune-telling."

Even as a teenager, I didn't have the nerve to go to one of those enterprises because I just knew Mother would know when or if I did. No way, Jose! In fact, it wasn't until I'd broken an unrelated cardinal rule and Mother never knew, that I realized she didn't possess supernatural powers! There's nothing like dodging a flaming torch of fire and brimstone. Whoopee!

No matter.  Mother still knew things that were unfathomable.  Fast forward with me, then, to what happened when I had married, was very pregnant, and living on an army base in North Carolina.  The obstetrician had predicted a November 9th due date for the birth of our first child.  However, when Mother woke Daddy up on November 7th, she announced she'd have to leave for North Carolina that day! 

"No, Jimmy, it's not November 9th but Dorothie's in labor and I promised her I'd be there," she explained as she packed.

"How do you know, Tee?" (the family's nickname for Mother), Daddy wondered.

"I just have a feeling, plus I woke up with a little pain in my lower back."

Daddy started by trying to book an airline ticket to North Carolina.  All flights booked, even first class! No Amtrak service was available either.  Daddy, being the deacon he was, began praying in earnest as he dialed Greyhound.  Hmm.  He was able to purchase one of the last seats leaving Chicago for North Carolina that day!

Thank You, Jesus.  Of course, I knew nothing of my parents' preparations on November 7th.  In fact, my regularly scheduled prenatal appointment that day dominated my thoughts.  Otherwise, I felt fine!  My (then) husband and I drove to the military clinic/hospital totally oblivious of what was to come.  The obstetrician gently examined as he questioned then announced, "Since this is your first birth and I think you're in active labor I think it's best to keep you here." WHAT?! 

Other than regretting that I had neither packed a tote bag nor brought some books to read, the rest of the day and night passed without event.   Until around 4 p.m., that next afternoon when I felt nagging back pains that lingered longer and longer.  Hmm. Ooh!

Mother had spent all of November 7th riding from State to State on a bus.  She'd had to transfer several times but, being the consummate planner, had packed enough food (fried chicken, fruit, and pound cake)  to last the duration of the trip.  She was ready to get to Fort Bragg on November 8th.  Her back pain had become increasingly uncomfortable as it spread throughout her lower torso.  Nevertheless, she and daddy had farmed in Mississippi.  Piece of cake.

  When she arrived in Fayetteville and disembarked, the first sight to greet her was a huge statue of a Confederate general.  Mother called our one-bedroom, duplex apartment and got no answer.  No problem.  She got instructions that resulted in taking two city buses to Murchison Road, where we lived.  No one home? No problem.   She settled in to wait.  In the meantime, she decided to "straighten things up a bit" and start dinner.

Tracey Beatrice Clark entered the World on November 8, at 6:48 p.m.  When the proud new daddy got home a couple of hours later,  startled, he ran to Mother swung her around, and exclaimed, "Tee, Tee, I'm a father: I have a beautiful baby girl! She's so beautiful!" We gave Tracey her maternal grandmother's name- Beatrice-which sounded melodious to us!

BTW, the new mother came through the birth process, none the worse for wear with remarkable aplomb, having missed the worst the "having-a-baby-is-the-worst-pain-you'll-ever-live-through-pain" trauma.  It appears that Mother had most of those!  Hmm. What wonderful poetry in her name.