Good morning everyone. I’m Jason Herrington, proud son of Leslie Miller Blanton. I have never pictured this moment or day in my head. It’s one of those unimaginable events you never think you’ll you have to deal with. However, as reality set in and we began planning for t
oday, I knew I wanted to speak and try to represent in words (though it seems impossible) the kind of incredible person my mother was.
In my entire 26 years, my mother had always explained her own childhood and teen years as simply “average”. She was an average student, earning B’s and C’s. She made an average attempt at gymnastics, and all-in-all had an average upbringing. However, what was made undeniably clear, through words and actions, was that her life became extremely “above-average” the moment she became a mother.
She was 22 when her first child was born, my amazing sister, Jennifer. She talked about being blessed with a good baby… that Jennifer was angelic and heaven-sent, perfect for a new mother. Much like she is today. She always told me her favorite memories included taking Jennifer to pick berries and cooking with them together for weeks to come.
Her passion for motherhood grew, just as her tummy did for a second time. Stacy, my brilliant sister, was born when Mom was 25. She always referred to Stacy as a curious baby, who explored and asked questions. Again, much like the woman she is today. At this point our mother didn’t have much money, yet she insisted that her girls feel as if they longed for nothing. Now, this does not mean our mother always thought things out fully, however. In an attempt to make Stacy’s Halloween costume perfect, but still on a budget… she admitted to resorting to using white-out in lieu of actual face paint. Unknowingly, little Stacy’s eyes became irritated and my mother quickly fixed the issue. To this day, we still laugh at hearing this story. My mother felt awful about it, but we always joked about it. Enough to where she would start one of her very common fits of laughter. When our Mom laughed, she laughed hard. She laughed till she cried and was red in the face. My sisters and I had no choice but to laugh with her and it always seemed as if the giggling would never end.
At the age of 30, my mother finally had her baby boy, me. All the other members of our family always told me that I was an awful baby and I would cry until someone gave me exactly what I wanted. But my Mom would always assure me, that was not the case, and that I was just picky and unique. My sisters, as children, liked to pick on me a bit by telling me that I was an accident. But again, my mother always corrected them, making sure I knew I was the most wonderful-pleasant surprise of her life! I was more than a Momma’s boy. I was attached to her hugs and could not sit on the couch without being in her lap, where she rubbed my back to comfort me. During Christmas time, she’d hold me while we stared at the Christmas tree and the lights twinkling. She would sing so softly, just so I could hear, the words of “Silent Night” and “Noel”, until I fell asleep. I’ll miss her voice.
Growing up my mother had to work 2 or 3 jobs at a time to make sure we had everything we needed or wanted. Somehow though, I never knew she worked so hard. Her time at home was so focused on her children, that like the incomparable mother she was, she made sure we never knew she struggled.
Personally, as a child and teenager… I was different than most kids. I liked to dance around the house, perform in any capacity, play dress-up, and ask my mother to request the girl toy in a McDonald’s Happy Meal. She was never embarrassed to ask for the girl toy for her son. She always told me to be me and if I was happy and not hurting anyone else, than to stay true to who I was. I was to live life with no restraint or regrets. I can’t express how easy she made my life. Knowing my mother supported my every move and having her as a strong role model, I could be myself and be a good person.
It’s hard to stand here and express how wonderful she was and how her efforts in motherhood would have gained her a Nobel Prize! However, I brought with me today a scrapbook page that my mother made and wrote for me 1 year ago, on my 25th birthday. I’d like to read it to you. She wrote…
“Jason,
I loved you the second I heard your heart beat. I loved you the minute you were born. I loved looking at your sweet, baby face, as I held you. I loved the mischievous little boy you were. And, I love the wonderful, thoughtful, caring man you have become. I am so proud of you. Happy 25th Birthday!
Love Always, Mom”
Up until last week, I’d call her everyday… telling her stories of my day-to-day life. She’d give her 2 cents, telling me to do what made me happy, but to always “just be good”. Those 3 words could do right by the entire world. If everyone on this planet was like my mother and lived by the words, “just be good”… could you imagine the kind of world we would live in?
This brings me to the first way we intend on memorializing my mother. Our dear friend Jenni McKay, decided to help us create 1-week a year, simply declared as “Leslie Week”. This week starts Monday, August 13th – August 17th. She created a website at leslieweek.blogspot.com. You all should have been given a hand-out explaining how this week should work. Basically, during this week you should put “good” out into the world. It’s simple, take your mother out to lunch, a family member to dinner, or give a complete stranger a hug. Whatever, you think would put a little more good into the world, do it in our mother, Leslie’s, name. Just as she did everyday she was alive. We also request that you share a favorite memory or kind words about her, to keep the memory of her strong and loud each year.
We wanted to create this event because it wasn’t just her children she touched and changed forever.
Looking around this room, it is obvious the impact she’s made. Her husband and our Stepfather, Mike, describes her as “having the patience of Jobe”, and being quite clearly a saint to put up with him. He always boasted how incredible it was that she was able to keep her relationships with her children, family, and friends so strong and so unwavering through so many years.
My father, Danny, also brought up a great description of my mother. In her scrapbook she wrote, “Life is nothing without friendships”. This couldn’t be more true in her case. Even after their divorce, I never remember a time they weren’t friends. I can’t even think of one person who has met her, that didn’t fall instantly in love. She made sure all people in her life were taken care of before herself and would give the shirt off her back for someone in need.
As her children, we tried to pamper her as well, by taking her shopping, doing her hair, nails, and make-up. Though she indulged us, she was happiest doing those things for others. The last thing we did together was a personal manicure at Jenn’s house. Jenn convinced her to try Ooh-La-La Orange on her nails. She thought it was too hip and young for her, but of course indulged us. Anything to just spend quality time together. It’s times like this I’ll miss. We all will miss how she was packed and ready for a trip, 6 days in advance. How she was always 15 minutes early. How she’d get so excited to ship her latest antique find to Australia. And how she “liked” everything on our facebooks. We’ll especially miss her creativity.
She loved to paint. We brought her creations today because we see her in every brush stroke. She loved painting nature and landscapes, representing the world in every season.
In a moment we will see a photo montage of my mother’s life created by our dear friend, Jenny Barker. We chose the song, “Every Season” because it describes her life perfectly. It describes how in every season we will feel her spirit. How in Summer, we’ll see her in children’s games, and in Autumn through the changing leaves. In winter we’ll hear when branches crack and see her in our breathe on frosted glass. And finally, in Spring, when the world becomes anew, turning all things green.
My closing words to us all are this. Be comforted knowing she lives on in her children, grandchildren, and in the hearts of all of us. Think about her often, but don’t cry. Instead, smile knowing she’s changed us all for the better. I know she’s looking down now telling us to be happy, to go on with our lives, living them to the fullest and to remember… “just be good”.
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