The legacy of a neighborhood Mom

Growing up in a small town in the rural South, I was fortunate enough to live most of all my formative years in a neighborhood with lots of kids around my age. My growing up years were a time when kids could (and did) safely spend most the day outside. We played hard from dawn to dusk. Floating "boats" in any mud puddle and/or ditch you could find (or make), playing "army" with platoon of plastic soldiers, climbing the massive oak trees from which our neighborhood derived it's name (Whispering Oaks), and chasing each other on bikes while reenacting adventures from recent episodes of "Adam 12" or "Emergency!" are just some of the activities I can recall.

One fixture of the neighborhood were the neighborhood Moms and Dads. These were my friend's parents who, whether they liked it or not, got to see plenty of the other neighbors kids once we determined who's house/yard/field was going to the destination for the day (or at least the home base, police station, football field, etc., dujour). I had great parents and most of my friends were similarly blessed. Since many of our Dads worked shift work, including nights and weekends, the Mom's of Whispering Oaks were often left to oversee the cadre of knuckleheads and yard-apes who might be playing at their house any given day. These neighborhood Moms were often times just as likely to bandage your wounds, make you a sandwich, tell you to "put that down right now!", or give you sage life advice as your own Mom. They were part medic, disciplinarian, spiritual adviser, relationship councilor, and mentor. As such, they had a profound and lasting influence on me.

One such Mom in my neighborhood was Patsy Guice. The Guice's lived two doors down and their two boys were my playmates/teammates/co-conspirators most of my growing up years. Their mom Patsy was kind and sweet and loved her boys as much as any Mom ever has. She had similar kindness and affection for the other neighborhood kids as well. She was always interested in what you were doing. From "How do you like first grade?" to "How do you like college?", Patsy always took a genuine interest in the other neighborhood kids. She praised our accomplishments and mourned our losses. She was as happy for our success almost as if we were one of her own.

It's been over 30 years since I left Whispering Oaks and my parents moved away some number of years ago as well. I hadn't had much recent contact with a lot of the people who were such a big part of my childhood for many years until 3 years ago when my Dad passed away. At my Dad's memorial I saw Patsy Guice; in fact I saw all the Guices. The whole family came to honor my Dad and support our family despite the fact we'd hadn't been neighbors for many years. As if no time had passed, Patsy hugged my neck and inquired "How's your Momma doing? How are your kids? Where ya'll living now? Your wife's so pretty". Still taking a genuine, selfless interest in the lives of others.

This past weekend I gathered together with many wonderful people from my childhood past to honor the life of Patsy Guice after she succumbed to cancer just last week. Both the familiar faces in the room and the memories of the genuinely sweet lady we were honoring that day once again reminded me of how fortunate I was to grow up when I did, where I did, and around the quality people I did. As the pastor spoke of Patsy's faith in God and offered that "Patsy is in a better place" I was reminded that I and many of the other neighborhood kids of my era are also in a better place because of the her life and kind influence.

Many people's legacy consists of what they accomplished, the fortune they accumulated, the career they built, or the fame they achieved. Patsy's legacy is far more lasting than any of these things. She was a neighborhood Mom who blessed and changed the lives of not only her family but the families of all of us neighborhood kids who were fortunate enough to grow up on her street. Heaven's gain is Whispering Oaks loss but it was a better place because of Patsy Guice.