Dear Mama and Daddy,
Sunday was Parents’ Day, a time to celebrate and honor the people who raised us and helped shape us into who we are. So, here I am, belated (I’m sure you’re not surprised) but totally thankful (which I hope you realized during your time here on Earth).
Even though this national day of parental recognition has been around since 1994, I never actually paid attention to it until recently. But now that I have – and maybe because Saturday would have been your 110th birthday, Mama – I thought today would be a good opportunity to tell you both how much I appreciate and miss you.
And, Daddy, you may have noticed that this year I wrote another letter on Father’s Day – to the ultimate Father. I’m sure you won’t mind that your message is coming six weeks later.
Mama, you’ve been gone for 23 years, and Daddy, you’ve been gone for 38. As the song says, “Sunrise, sunset … swiftly flow the years.”
You were both part of the Greatest Generation, although I’m sure you would never have labeled yourself as such. But you were – the ones who lived through the Great Depression and World War II, those who persevered and endured and worked hard to build a better life for yourselves and your children. With the rest of the world, I thank you profusely.
Your backgrounds were similar, even if your personalities were not. You both taught school, and you both grew up on cotton farms just north of Spearsville, almost within sight of the Arkansas line if there hadn’t been so many trees. You dedicated your lives to education, not only in the classroom, but also at home.
Mama, you taught for 43 years and served as principal at Rocky Branch School for 25 of those years. You left your mark on generations of students who learned from your wisdom, kindness and discipline. You cried in the classroom when Kennedy was shot, and 30 years prior to that you undoubtedly hauled in firewood to heat up a one-room schoolhouse.
You were a true steel magnolia, an unshakeable Southern woman whose sweetness was surpassed only by your strength and resilience. You marched diligently in the Lord’s army, a Christian with a beautiful voice worthy of singing with the angels – and I’m sure they’re enjoying your rendition of “Home of the Soul” right about now. I’m planning to join you one day, and we’ll belt it out together again.
Daddy, you taught, too, of course, and were also principal at Rocky Branch before serving in the Army Air Corps. After the war – unable to stay cooped up anymore after so many blackouts in Europe – you worked as a biologist for the Louisiana Department of Wildlife and Fisheries and managed to go down in history for at least two things: writing the book that served for decades as the “bible” concerning Louisiana’s wild turkeys and helping restore the state’s deer population by trapping deer in Wisconsin and bringing them here for release.
People are probably tired of hearing me mention these two accomplishments, but I don’t care. I’ll forever be proud of you for achieving these things.
A peach orchard, a grocery store and a return to the classroom were in your future as well. You had a passion for nature and agriculture, and you could grow absolutely anything. Even though you and your cousins couldn’t wait to get off those cotton farms, the soil never left your veins. You loved to ride that old poppin’ John Deere in the garden and watch the dirt turn beneath the blades. I think you liked to smell it as well.
Both of you faced challenges in your later years. Daddy, you weren’t healthy for quite a while and, Mama, you felt the sting of dementia. But I try not to dwell on those memories. I prefer to remember you from your prime.
Mama … Daddy … I feel your presence every day. I still hear your voices in my mind, giving me advice or encouragement.
You weren’t perfect; no one is. But you gave me what’s most important: a legacy of love and a foundation of values that guide me through life.
Thank you for being my parents. Thank you for being my heroes.
I love you always,
Your daughter, Sallie Rose
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Sallie Rose Hollis lives in Ruston and retired from Louisiana Tech as an associate professor of journalism and the assistant director of the News Bureau. She can be contacted at sallierose@mail.com.
