Eighty Years Young

Every Blue Moon or so, I give a nod to the idea that leadership begins at home. I am not alone in my belief that the leader in each of us has its genesis in how our parents treated us as children. Research suggests that teachers can have the same effect, but that is a theme for another blog.

No less-prominent figure than Sigmund Freud believed that strong male leaders were typically born of mothers whose combination of high expectations and preferential treatment destined the child, especially if he is first-born, to live up to the greatness envisioned by his mother.

As a first-born child myself, I have probably fallen far shorter of my own expectations than I have of my mothers, but I can assure you, she has more than lived up to mine. And she has been doing it for a very long time.

On Saturday, October 1, in the embrace of family and friends from as far away as Kansas City, Missouri and Cocoa Beach, Florida to as close as her next-door neighbor in Smothers Place Lofts in downtown Greensboro, my siblings and I threw a party for Mom, eighty years young and counting.

I add the "and counting" specifically in view of the fact that I am officially retired from the state of North Carolina while, as an employ of Guilford County Schools, she, twenty-one years my senior, continues to work full time. Now that's embarrassing. But that's Mom.

At Mom's suggestion, we rented Churchill's on South Elm, a private club on the main drag of the most liberal, blue-collar town in North Carolina and home of my alma mater. Phil Epstein, a fantastic jazz pianist and friend of sister, Bobbie, supplied two hours of music at no charge. Apparently with age comes privilege. As a party financier, I'm not complaining.

And we dined elegantly. Bobbie, friend Nicole Cofield, and wife, Deborah, prepared an eclectic spread, including garlic shrimp, caprice salad, and asparagus wrapped in prosciutto. I bought the wine, ten bottles of Eco Domini cabernet savignon-merlot blend and ten bottle of pinot grigio. Of course, the bar was open for folk seeking stronger spirits. And seek they did.

Twenty bottles of wine and two hours later, Mom was wearing out men--and women--half her age on the dance floor where a rhythm and blues band had replaced our pianist friend, Phil. At one point, there was a line waiting to dance with Mom.

We partied at Churchill's until about 11:00 pm, having started five hours earlier, and then resumed the festivities at my sister's condo. In short, a good time was had by all. 

The backstory is that Greensboro has been in love with Mom since Spring 2005 when she move there to be closer to my family. Much to her disappointment, we soon left for Raleigh and my new job with Wake County Public School System. Thank God my sister, Bobbie, lives there to absorb Mom's energy in my place.

Deb and I are increasingly convinced that we need to leave Raleigh and move closer to Mom. Not so much because she needs us but because we need her. I know how strange that must sound. But here's the thing:

If you are a mother, God surely will have blessed you if one day your children feel as her children do. Mom is a leader not because she has graduate degrees nor because she is in a position of authority, but merely by being who she is. That is really all it takes to draw others to you. Come to think of it, leaders are always those who only be who they are. Are you being who you are?