An Extraordinary Woman

The first eighteen years of my life you lived across the street, and an enormous part of my childhood was spent by your side. You have had a profound impact on my life, especially as a mother and entrepreneur.

I can’t think of a night during tax season (for my entire life) when your house wasn’t glowing with the light of a woman working into the wee hours. As a child, I remember wondering if you slept at all. All of us in the family were in awe of your boundless energy. I never saw you willingly take a sick day my whole life. I watched you push through things that would have put most people in the hospital. You got stuff done. You are the hardest working person I have ever met, period.

I can’t count the amount of times that you were stopped in the middle of grocery shopping at Food Lion to be asked about taxes. Or the times we were interrupted at supper at the “Fish Camp” by a client worried about their payroll taxes. You were gracious every.single.time. I never understood all the interruptions or why people seemed to adore you. Now that I have paid taxes and run a business, I understand the connection one has with their tax advisor!  You had a servant’s heart long before Dave Ramsey started talking about Servant Leadership.

You had two phone lines in your office. One was the main office number, and one was the private family line. Despite how busy you were, we always had access to you. The president could have been in your office and you would have answered the family line. There were no exceptions; it rang, you answered. Because you literally worked around the clock from Jan 1-April 15, we often ate take-out and shared about our day sitting around your desk. You were never too busy to hear about the woes of a middle school girl who needed some loving encouragement.

You were one of the first women to operate an H&R Block Franchise. I don’t know if you were the very first, but you were on the bleeding edge. You never mentioned gender to me, even once. On top of all of this, you were the proud mother of three children, while Papaw had to be away frequently as a long-haul truck driver. You also found yourself as the caretaker of your mother, who was sick and required significant medical help for most of your adult life. You were a good daughter.

In addition to taking care of seemingly everybody, you played the piano at church, took sugar-free treats to diabetic friends in nursing homes, and faithfully delivered (in your station wagon) no less than 10 poinsettias to the graves of family members every Christmas. You are an extraordinary force of nature.

Mamaw Shirley and Oliver

Perhaps it wasn’t just work ethic that impressed me so much, as I look back.  It was also your grit. Recently there has been much chatter from psychologists and business leaders about a person’s “grit”. Grit tends to be an incredible predictor of success in virtually everything, whether it be business or personal.  

The reason for your grit was likely found in your childhood. In losing your father to the murderer who put a bullet in his head. In losing your first husband to a grisly car accident that made front page news. When your mother’s knees fused together as a result of being bed-ridden for years, she relied on you for virtually everything.

The story is often told that when you were a little girl, you’d put other kids ice cream cones on your father’s tab at the drug store. When you grew up, you were still sharing generously. Many of the great experiences of my life I can trace back to your giving spirit. You love to give us good gifts. You love to bless those around you.

Through my parents’ deeply painful divorce, through middle school bullying and being #11 when 10 were chosen, you were always there. You were the rock that stayed steady even when the strongest waves rolled across my young life.

I hope I get to be that rock for someone else one day. To love them through their most fragile times. To fan into flame their unique gifts and talents that God gave them.

I am incredibly thankful God put you in my life. I hope I’m half the mother and businesswoman you have become. Everyone needs a Mamaw Shirley. Everyone needs a woman whose character was forged in the crucible and came out the other side shining light onto others. Happy Mother’s Day.