A Businessman's Tribute To His Mother
by Kenneth M. Culpepper
International Society of Strategic Marketing -- June 1997
Who is your mother? This question could be answered with many adjectives and titles that pop into our heads when we think of our mothers. But even if you never had the opportunity to know your maternal mother, more than likely there was someone in your life that gave to you attention, direction, correction, teaching, understanding or a special flavor of unconditional love that one's mother freely gives.
My mother is no different. She loves me unconditionally, and sometimes, even to a point of partiality. But hey, she is my mother, and I am her only son. She is smart, compassionate, beautiful, athletic, strong-willed and creative among many other things. It seems to me that there is nothing that she cannot do when she puts her mind to it.
Memories are carved throughout my soul of countless conversations, observations and incidents with her. Most of them are my childhood through high school years before I went away to college. I don't know if the majority of memories of everyone's mother are from that period of their life or if they are unique to me, however, I do know that because of her influence and touch, this period of my life was significant to who I am today.
As a tribute to her, I have decided to share a few stories of her influences in my life. Although I embrace all opportunities that are granted to me to speak and tell about her, if I wrote them all it would simply be too much for any article.
I can remember her tolerance with me when I used to get out of bed and let our 100 pound German Shepherd (Ranger) inside the house after she had fallen asleep. Now that I have my own children, her tolerance is even more amazing to me. I remember her waking me the next morning with an entire house of laid out newspaper and dog poop on my pajamas. It didn't seem to phase her. She would just explain and teach me, by using my pajamas as an object lesson, why we simply cannot continue to let Ranger in the house.
Her patience and compassion perpetually built a confidence within myself that carried over to my adult life with all my ventures in business, life and my family.
I also remember going to see her in the hospital when I was about three years old. My father explained to me why she was in the hospital. He said, "Mommy has had a real hard time trying have her baby." I remember expecting my little sister. My mother lost this child in about the fourth month of her pregnancy while in the hospital. Her physician counseled her not to have any more children.
When she returned home, she sat me down and explained that it was hard for her to have children. She reminded me that even I was a premature delivery with doubts of survival. I can clearly remember her saying, "It is real hard for Mommy to have babies. What would you think about not having any brothers or sisters? Will you be OK with that?"
This experience has stuck with me all the way through my fleeting life. I realized from a very early age that my mother graciously included me in some of the decisions that would affect my life. While most of us parents think that our children cannot understand circumstances of this magnitude, let me testify as the three year old whose mother was asking for his blessing concerning this decision; our children understand to the extent that we as parents choose as appropriate to involve and teach them.
Another special memory I have of my mother was when I played Little League baseball. She often came to my games as did the other moms and dads. The neighborhood Little League had the usual minor and major leagues which distinguished the players by their age. Every year the minor league moms would play the major league moms in a softball game. Of course, my mother in all her competitive nature, loved the event. My friends used to tease me that she could hit, catch and throw better than me. Today, I still hold to that was strictly a matter of opinion.
This one particular game, I remember her making her usual great catches and solid hits, but the real story came on the basepaths. She was on first and the batter put the ball into play somewhere in the outfield. My mother was determined not to settle for a measly advancement to second base and was digging in for third. Everyone in the stands knew she was headed for third and the base coach was waving her down to slide. About the time she was digging for third, in-between short stop and third base something happened that just should not happen in baseball. My mother's wig came off her head.
To say the least, softball did not need this fashion statement, but this was a period in time when it was fashionable for women to wear wigs. I, on the other hand, was embarrassed to death that my mother would even entertain wearing a wig to play softball, much less run so hard that it would fall off her head. However, when the dust settled, my mother was safe at third, her wig sat there in-between short and third, and the players, coaches and spectators roared with laughter!
My mother then had the presence of mind (or the nerve) to ask for time out. She walked over and picked up her wig, dusted it off, placed it back on her head like it was a helmet, and proceeded to laugh and say, "OK now, somebody bring me home."
Let me reiterate that I was embarrassed. But how many times have I acted out the sequences of that event in my life. Numerous times I have been called to be a man in my marriage, business, and parenthood when challenged by life.
Approximately three years ago, I started my own integrated marketing consulting business. I don't think I have to tell anyone who has ever started their own business how tough the first year is in business. Every morning I would order up a prayer for provision and eagerly watch; then I would dig in for third and slide, and even loose my wig while competitively cold-calling, following-up every lead and telling people about my business. Then I would somehow find the presence of mind (or the nerve) to ask for the order.
My mother died of complications from an automobile accident in March of 1997 at the age of 56. I never really knew how much of an inheritance she had left me and my children through just being my mother until recently after her death.
Today, she is still being my mother through all these acts of loving kindness, direction, correction, teaching, understanding and unconditional love which I have inherited. Furthermore, if the Holy Scriptures are true, she will be reunited with me one day, and has recently been introduced to my little sister who now gets to be the beneficiary of her acts of motherhood.
This article started out by asking the question, "Who is your mother?" However, maybe a better question is who are you? I could go on about how other conversations, observations and incidents helped to collectively form who I am today, but the truth is our parents have already given most of us our true inheritance by the time we are 18 years old. Some of us invest it wisely and some flounder it foolishly.
Ken Culpepper is president of Integrated Marketing Solutions, Inc., a
knowledge-base marketing firm that
integrates tactical marketing strategy with management of multiple contacts
of businesses to their customers, prospects and channel customers. IMS incorporates
marketing business planning, long-term corporate ROI strategies, and marries
knowledge-based marketing with e-commerce strategy and systems. IMS has
offices in Atlanta, GA (770) 390-9199 and Nashville, TN (615) 782-0461.
(Web: migmar.com/ims)