August 26, 2025
Dear Judy,
Fifty years ago you were likely preparing for the hospital, anxiously awaiting your much loved and much planned love child with Harvey. Actually, knowing your nature, you had been ready for a while! Your suitcase was probably already packed, and you had long since made plans for the older kids to be at Grandma Goldie’s house. I wonder if you had Mexican food one more time before going into labor. Did you know you were having a son, or was that a surprise? I don’t know if I ever heard that detail.
What I do know without a shadow of a doubt is that you loved being his Mom. I think possibly, of all the passions God gave you in this earthly life, you loved nothing more. And he has flourished because of it. He flourishes still, drawing constantly on your love, your belief in him, your character shaping, and the hope that your prayers “hang in the air around him,” as the saying goes.
We would love to be partying with you this year. This milestone. This week to celebrate so much, not just the passage of a truly stunning volume of time but also the achievement of deep and hard earned peace. You might not agree with every single choice he has made in recent years, particularly this tattoo that’s about to happen, but most of those would just earn some smirks and jokes and a prized onery look of mock judgement over your eyeglasses, after which you would probably smile again and ask him, “Well, have you ate?” And even if he had eaten, he would say no and choose between a few favorite restaurants.
You would be proud, though, deeply proud, of so much. I hope you can see the best highlights from wherever you are, because he is carrying the mantle for you in ways we could not have dreamed of before you left. You should see what he has accomplished at the Commission. The storms he has navigated, the spiritual infrastructure he has built. Not aligned with any political party, but aligned with doing the right thing, he frequently invokes stories about you and your party-indifferent love for people and getting things done efficiently and transparently. He is the manager you always declared he would be, just on a much larger scale. We still have that concrete planter you gifted him to celebrate his first bank branch manager job on May Avenue in Oklahoma City. Every time I see it I think of you and how firmly you saw his future, decades ahead of time. People commonly talk about a mother’s love, and that’s good and true; but you also demonstrated the power of a mother’s vision. Thank you for that. Thank you for holding it for him, and thank you for showing both of us how vital it is to see through the storm into a beautiful future, an unclouded day.
He is an excellent father in law, as you were an excellent mother in law. His instincts and affection are so genuine and tender, it makes me fall more deeply in love with him every time I watch him with Alex. And if the kids’ wishes come true, he will be an excellent Grandpa, too. He’ll spoil those babies rotten and never apologize for it. We already have so much energy built up here at the farm for future grandbabies, and I know you would be happy to watch it all unfold, so long as we don’t let them have three wheelers.
Sometimes he laughs in a way that makes it feel like you are in the room with us. Sometimes he looks at me over his glasses in the exact way you would. And did you know we have a dear friend now, named Cathy, who has about a hundred uncanny traits similar to yours? When we finally acknowledged it to each other, it was such a comfort. I think her likenesses to you draw him in for weekend touchpoints. A sacred rhythm.
He is still finding ways to “Take care of the children,” as you implored him to do. The opportunities and inspirations change seasonally, but it’s always a natural fit when it happens. I wish you could share in some of it. The Batmobile in particular is a project I wish you could touch and hear and experience, bodily. There is no doubt you are woven into it.
He still loves your chocolate fudge cake and lemon ice box pie more than any other holiday dessert. He still has the same, soft old Snoopy you gave him. He still holds every good thing about childhood up to the high standard you provided. He still tells all his stories to anyone who will listen. You are here with us, is what I’m saying. We miss you terribly, but you are still here. You are very much alive in his personality, and I hope you feel it.
Thank you for loving him so well for the thirty eight years he had you that he still feels it. Thank you for raising a boy who could become the man that he is, the kind of man this world desperately needs. Disciplined, in control of himself, ambitious, protective, fiercely loyal, fun loving, and God fearing. Thank you for managing to establish so many traditions and cravings in him that endure to this day. Our life is so rich because of that. Your vacation-loving, Batman-crazed, video game-playing baby boy is all of that still and much more.
Fifty years old this week, more handsome than ever, and healthier than ever, too. Your son is doing great. Your motherhood continues. I just wanted you to know.
We love you, we miss you,
and we wish you could be here for his birthday.
xoxo
Marie