Sunday was Father’s Day and I’m sure the phrase “father knows best” was stated many times.  Well, now that Father’s Day has passed perhaps it is safe to share a little about how “mother knows best.”

When I started my blog, I received lots of advice – – write about what you know, something important, make it meaningful, keep it light, don’t dwell on the insignificant.

It didn’t take me  long to conclude that a good subject choice would be – – my mom.  That was the easy part, but what do I write that might be of interest to others?

I chuckled to myself.  If you knew my mom, everything was of interest.  She made things happen, was in charge; yet, found a way to support everything I did.  When she learned that I couldn’t read as a fifth grader, she took a part-time job to pay for a tutor.

She sat in the bleachers for hundreds of baseball games keeping score and more basketball games charting shots.  At 12:04 am on Saturday when I arrived home four minutes late from a date she gave me that glare from the old living-room chair.  She cheered when I won and hugged me when I lost.  It didn’t matter where I was, far or near, she was there to push me to do more.

As I matured, I realized even more what she had done for me.  She always said, “We’re not poor, we just don’t have much money.”  It took me a long time to learn the meaning of that.  And interestingly, Steve Schilling’s mother told him the same thing. (Steve’s the leading character in my first novel, Signature Affair.)

She’d often say “You can’t complain about something unless you’re willing to do something about it.”  So I’ve never complained about the weather – – can’t do anything about that.  In my career, I never complained.  I devoted countless hours to improving whatever it might be, trying to make it better; always focused on what could be rather than what was.

From time to time a member of my staff would ask “What should I do?”  again, her wisdom was there.  “Use your brain, that’s why you have one.  Make the best decision you can.”  So when asked the question, I’d always respond, “Do what is right, I know you will.”  Invariably the bewildered staff member would walk away and make the best possible decision.

Recently, my wife asked, “If your mother was still alive what would she think about you writing “steamy novels?”  I thought but a moment.  “She’d be right on board,” I said.  “Probably critiquing and editing, and making lots  of suggestions.”

What special advice did you receive from your mom? I’d love to hear from you.