This is what I wrote and Brian read for me at the service:Things My Mom Taught Me

By Debbie Swiger Ford

Like most moms, mine taught me how to walk and talk, feed and dress myself, and yes—even how to use the potty. (And by the way, I’ve been told I was a potty-training prodigy—fully trained at just one year old)

But aside from these things, my mom taught me so much more about life.

She taught me to be hard-headed and stubborn, although maybe that was less taught and more inherited. In fact, I may have inherited that from both of my parents. Mom was hard-headed and also very direct. She wasn’t afraid to tell you what she thought and you pretty much knew where you stood with her.

She taught me to have a sense of humor. Her wit was sharp and dry and sometimes you didn’t know if she was serious or joking. I don’t think she realized how funny she was - but she could be hilarious (sometimes without even meaning to be). She had a beautiful smile and a wonderful laugh. Even in those final weeks, she managed to make us laugh many times.

She taught me to love music and dancing. Our house was always full of music. Some of my favorite memories are of putting on the old records from the 50s and 60s and dancing with my parents (mostly Mom) in the living room. She loved all kinds of music (except Opera) and she liked to sing along. When my brother became a musician, we used to go out and watch his band play every weekend and we would sing and two-step and line dance all night long. In fact, we talked about forming a mother-daughter duo like The Judds and decided due to our singing abilities (or lack thereof) we should probably be called The Duds.

She taught me to be creative. She would tell you she wasn’t talented but she didn’t give herself enough credit. She painted ceramics and wooden Christmas ornaments that still hang on their tree every year. She made a lot of her own clothes and clothes for Brad and I—matching red polyester bell-bottom overalls included. We gave her a hard time, but honestly, they were probably very stylish in 1974. She also crocheted beautiful afghans, many that we have displayed here today. I remember when I was little she crocheted a shawl for herself and a matching poncho for me, and she made several hooded scarves for people over the years. One thing she was never able to teach me was how to crochet. She tried but remember how she taught me to be hard-headed? Yeah, I think that’s why I couldn’t learn. She also bought me a sewing machine and tried to teach me how to sew. Again, that hard-headed thing came into play but I did eventually manage to teach myself enough to hem curtains and make pillows and things like that. A few months ago, I asked her if I could have her crochet hooks because I wanted to try to teach myself. She gladly gave them to me and I think she was excited that I wanted to learn.

She taught me to how to drive. She couldn’t teach me to drive a stick although she was able to teach Brad, no problem. Remember that hard-headed thing? I think that was the issue with me. And as Brad will tell you, she taught us what to call the idiot drivers on the road, too.

She taught me that family always comes first. To her, family was one of the most important things in the world. As long as she was able, she did just about anything for us and for our extended family. Mom was the glue that held the family together. She kept in touch with family members, both close and distant, regularly. She was always willing to pick up the phone and give someone a call just to say hello.

She taught me how to be a good friend. Mom always said that you don’t need a lot of friends, you just need a few good ones. She had lifelong friends who, even if they hadn’t spoken in months, could pick up right where they left off, laughing and talking like no time had passed. Since she moved around so much as a child, her first friends were her cousins, both on the McClinton side and the Woolaver side. She was still in touch almost daily with some of them. When I think about it, in reality, she had a lot more than a few good friends who loved her.

She taught me what a strong marriage looks like. She and Dad were married 59 years and 5 months, a feat that isn’t matched by many. They even survived working together for 16 years - which just proves how strong their marriage was. Their relationship wasn’t perfect (nobody’s is) but they always took care of each other and never gave up on their love.

She taught me how to be a mom…how to take all of the other things she taught me and pour into my own children. She taught me how to soothe their cries, how to make them smile and laugh, and how to create lasting memories with them.

She also taught me how to be involved in my kids’ lives. She joined the PTA and served as an officer and volunteered at the school frequently. She attended every school party and did lunchroom duty. She worked at school carnivals, field days, book fairs and Santa Shops. She chaperoned all of our school field trips. She was also very active in Band Boosters when we were in high school.

As kids, she wanted us to be able to do anything we wanted to do and she was our biggest cheerleader. When we wanted to play baseball and softball, she signed us up for the teams and came to every game. Even when we both had games at the same time, she found a way. When we wanted to join Bluebirds or Cub Scouts, she signed us up and became assistant leader and attended every meeting and event. When we wanted to be in band, she enthusiastically supported us, bought instruments, put us in private lessons and attended every concert, solo & ensemble contest and marching performance. Even beyond school, when Brad became a professional musician and started playing in bands at 18, she became the “band mom.” She let them rehearse at the house and store their trailer there. She attended every performance, hauled equipment in her Suburban, sold t-shirts at gigs, and was their #1 fan.

She taught me how to stand up for myself and for my kids and how to put on my (excuse my French) “bitch face” if necessary. A great example was when I was in 5th grade and a couple of the teachers decided to call my friend, Lorrie, and I to the teacher’s table in the cafeteria and proceed to yell at us in front of 2 grade levels of kids (over what turned out to be a misunderstanding). Mom happened to be volunteering at the school (of course!) and another mom alerted her to what was going on. She stood and watched for a moment and then approached the table and told Lorrie and I to go sit down. She told the teachers that she would discuss it with them later. Mic Drop

She taught me what a wonderful grandmother looks like. She loved her grandkids more than anything in the world. She was Justin’s babysitter for the first 2 and a half years of his life and she loved babysitting Daniel whenever she got the chance. She baked cookies with them and got in the floor and played with them and loved every minute of it. Before they started school, I would take them to the print shop with me every day so they still got to spend several days a week with Nanny and PaPa. She thought they were both geniuses and loved spending time with them even as they grew into adults. She bragged on them frequently, telling everyone how smart they were. And she thought Daniel was comedian-level funny too. Watching her with my kids taught me how to love with my whole heart and if I ever get the opportunity to be a grandmother, I have a great example to model.

She taught me to be fair. Mom wanted everything to be equitable. She had to spend the same amount of money and have the same amount of gifts for each of us at Christmas. She never wanted it to seem like she was favoring one of us over the other. She also never wanted anyone to feel left out. If she knew that friends or significant others or extended family would be coming for Christmas, she always made sure they had gifts to open too.

Mom loved kids and she especially hated for any kid to feel left out. In going through photos recently, I found an album that my grandpa had put together that was dedicated to my mom. If you know anything about my grandpa, you know he was quite the historian. I like to say he was the world’s first scrapbooker. Every album has dates, places and anecdotes. Well this particular album had 2 stories I’d like to share about my mom.

The second grade class of Morton Elementary was going on a picnic. The children were to bring a signed permission slip from their parents. All but one child did.

One boy came prepared to go on the picnic indicating he had his parents’ permission. However, the teacher told him he could not go without the signed permission slip. The boy sat down and cried.

Shirley was at the school and heard what happened. She found out the boy’s address, drove over, and got the father—who answered the door in his underwear, by the way—to sign the form so the boy could join the picnic.

Returning to the school with the slip, Shirley saw to it that the boy was able to attend the picnic with the other children.

The next day at the school, the boy saw Shirley and asked, “Are you the lady who got my dad to let me go to the picnic?” When she said she was, the little boy wrapped his tiny arms around her legs and said, “Thanks!”

The other story was about our neighbors. They had 3 sons, the youngest was named Bo. One of his brothers was sick so his mom couldn’t attend his school Halloween party. Bo told his mother, “It’s OK because Shirley will be there.” Well Bo was in Kindergarten and Mom didn’t have any kids in Kindergarten at that time. But she went to Bo’s party so he would have someone there. That’s just the kind of caring person she was.

My mom taught me to be strong because she was strong…one of the strongest people I have ever known. She didn’t have an easy start in life, but she never let her past define her. She was resilient and always bounced back from any challenges that came her way. One of the hardest things for her was the loss of her eyesight. And while that was a big obstacle, she continued to be as independent as possible and enjoy her life as long as she could.

Maybe the greatest thing my mom ever taught me was how to care—for the people you love. She cared for my dad when he had the mumps back in the 60’s. She nursed Brad and I through chickenpox, colds, wasp stings, and other ailments (not to mention Brad’s many injuries that required stitches). She bandaged our “owies” and consoled us when we were sad. When Justin was a baby, she was the one he always wanted when he was sick.

As a child, I watched her care for her mother-in-law - my Nanny. When Nanny was diagnosed with cancer, Mom was the one who took her to the doctor and for chemo and radiation treatments. She even went to Houston when she was at MD Anderson. As a teen, when Mom’s mother, my Grandma, had her heart attack and subsequent health problems, Mom was always there. She went to the hospital every day, asking questions and making sure that Grandma got the best care. When I was so sick with mono in the early 90s, she moved me back home and took care of me until I was able to go back to my apartment again. When my Grandpa had cancer, she stepped up for him and took him to doctor appointments and treatments and whenever he was in the hospital, she took my Grandma to visit him every day. She was his advocate and the one who asked all the right questions. After he passed, she made sure my Grandma was taken care of and as her health deteriorated and she was in and out of the hospital, Mom, again, was there every day.

When Mom’s health began to fail, first back in 2019 when she had a bout of pneumonia and was diagnosed with COPD, I had to put to use those skills I had gained by watching her care for loved ones all these years. I was at the hospital every day, checking on her and asking the doctors questions. I went with her to doctor’s appointments after she got out of the hospital to make sure everything was going OK. And then in March of this year, as we navigated all of her new diagnoses, I helped my dad by being at the hospital every day, doing research, and asking the hard questions. Dad and I toured rehabs together and our family interviewed the hospice company and all the while I tried to ask all the right questions. We cared for her when she came home and learned to do things we never thought we could do. It was hard but I wouldn’t change a thing. Thanks to my team at work, I had the flexibility to be there every day those last 3 weeks and even when she couldn’t talk to us, I know she knew we were there.

Most of all, Mom taught me how to be a good human being. Mom liked to come off as tough and honery, but inside that gruff exterior was a heart of gold and, as you can see by the stories I have shared with you today, she was very kind and caring.

She was one of the best and I will miss her tremendously. We talked almost every day. There have already been so many times that I have wanted to pick up the phone and call to tell her something. I know in recent years as she needed more help navigating her phone and computer or writing checks or paying bills or scheduling appointments, she felt that she was bothering me but I didn’t see it that way. Even in times when I might have seemed frustrated, I never felt like it was a bother. I was always happy to help - to repay her for all the things she did for me in my life. And I wish so much that she could “bother” me again.

Mom lived her life showing up for people—whether it was for a sick family member, a neighbor’s kid, a school function, or just a phone call with a cousin or an old friend. And even though she’s not physically here, I know she’s still showing up for us, through all the things she taught us to be - strong, loving, and just a little bit stubborn.

Thank you all for coming to pay your respects to Mom today. She would be so honored that you were here.