Mildred “Millie” Evelyn Reynolds
Born: April 26, 1931 Hannibal MO. Died: Dec. 22, 2014 Farmers Branch TX
It’s Christmas time and you had to take your leave of us. You’d been suffering for sometime now with that horrible cancer, pancreatic, and it just got the better of you. We all did get to say our goodbyes before it shut you down completely. We will miss you, especially your husband Bob.
You were born into the worst hard times this country has seen. And early on, before you met Bob in Miami, your life was not easy, in fact it was filled with the kind difficulties most hope to never see. You raised three children, Cindy, me (Brian) and Wayne. Most of the time we were pretty good and had you to help guide us. I’ll admit right here that I was pretty much the black sheep, the “incident at Ken-Ray Ford,” as it became known, didn’t help, but I did get to come home for the day, it was nice of the Principal to let us all out of school after the police dropped us out in front. I can’t think of anything Cindy or Wayne did as stupid as I did. Like throwing up on you after I got my tonsils out, that was the day after the infamous US Marshall’s raid. Though it was Cindy that showed us were Santa kept all the gifts in case you didn’t know. But you raised us up and got us out into the world and was always there for us when we needed you. You were crazy, and one of the worst cooks, but you brought us into this world, bathed us and showed us how to open the door for everyone. You were our mother, Bob’s wife and rescuer of many lucky dogs, cats and other assorted animals (remember that eel I brought you home in Miami?). You instilled in us a deep love of deviled eggs and Miracle Whip, but I still cannot eat meatloaf to this day even though Cindy still trots it out like the medal of freedom. Dad was talking about the time he brought home some horse meat in those lean early years saying it was cow, you were so pissed! You loved to dance and were always helping out down at the office and spent more time than is humanly possible at the beauty parlor, to great effect.
And Mom, here’s a list of people that really loved you: first of all your husband of 64 years Bob. He helped take care of you and nurse you through these last months with so much love. Respectively, your children’s spouses: John, Susie and Martha. Your grandchildren: Baker, Spenser, Amber, Alexis and Hank. And your great grandchild Lucca. You left Rio and Joshua behind which will help Dad with a little companionship (if they would just shut up every now and then!). There are many others on your husbands side and of course your sister, Henny, who you protected and guided at an early age out of the heartache of a hard life. Many of your friends and family have gone on before you and we hope they are making you welcome and loved, maybe even Boots and Tia are there to keep you company.
You are loved and will be sorely missed.
Merry Christmas Mom!
Love, Brian, and all your family
Hi mom, I never thought I’d have to write this letter. You have always seemed so young to me, good genes-but for a few-a constant in my life. My earliest memory is with you on that crazy trip moving from Florida to Texas when the car caught fire, the dog got loose, we got lost in Louisiana and the bird took flight-regularly. In fact, most of my early memories are of you; looking up and seeing you watching me play with my Tonka Toys below the kitchen window, walking me to neighbor’s homes to play or coming to march me home after someone bit me or I bit someone.
You gave me a great life; how wonderful it is to be your favorite child. I know I don’t deserve it, but your only other choices are Brian and Cindy, so I guess it was easy. Having cookies and milk and you waiting for me when I got home from school every day gave me an anchor, even though it got a little awkward in high school. Sorry I kept you waiting so often. And you love me despite my being a little shit at times, thanks for slapping me when I took the Lord’s name in vain. I don’t think I ever did that again.
I wish you gave me a bigger allowance when I was a kid than you did but I am so glad you forced me to go to work so I learned how to behave around others and keep a few bucks in my pocket at all times. You are such a good listener, the hours we spent talking about Martha and marriage and life made making hard decisions easy.
Left to my own, I would still be wearing jeans, t-shirts with pockets and high top converse all-stars-all seldom washed. You have always made sure I was properly clothed. You picked out and bought my first suit for interviewing at NTSU. I still have the full-length cashmere coat you bought me when Martha and I moved to Denver, 30 years ago. Your Christmas and Birthday gifts carried my wardrobe through each year. And my favorite present came twice a year; a six month supply of Avon Soap-On-An-A-Rope. I can still smell it.
My kids probably don’t realize how much of their wardrobes were either sewn or purchased by you. And their parents sanity was maintained because you sacrificed your time to “baby sit” them so we could have a night or a weekend out.
You never told me who spilled the sewing needles on the carpet floor, one of which ended up an inch and a half in my foot. I have my suspicions and both of them graduated from WT White before me. Anyway, thanks for putting me back in my hospital bed after I “tripped out” on the anesthesia after the surgery. And thanks for coming to stay with me after my first bout with colon problems and hernia surgery. I was scared and you calmed me while you took care of me. Sorry if I scared you with my cancer-that is a parent’s worst nightmare. I am glad you were there with me.
Well, goodnight mom, I can’t wait to see you in heaven, where there will be no cancer and meanness-you got enough of that.