my mom

With Mother’s Day yesterday, I got to thinking about my mom. It’s been 19 years since I was able to spend Mother’s Day with her. She died in a car accident on January 29, 1987. I was 14 at the time. I probably didn’t appreciate her as much as I should have for those 14 years. But looking back I know how special she was. Her love for me has left a lasting imprint on my life. Everyday I strive to do things that will make her proud of me.
The following is a letter one of my mom’s friend and co-worker wrote to us after my mom’s death:

Diana Derr Was My Friend

She loved her family so much. Her main priorities in life were: her family, including her mother, her church and her job. She was devoted to them in that order.

We became “group friends” when several of us ate lunch and attended Westfield functions together. Once, I joined an exercise class in Rittman where we exercised to Christian music and were measured once a month. I invited Diana to come with me. She was reluctant at first but she finally did join and came faithfully. One time when they took her measurements, she had lost several inches and she was just excited! I was so happy for her.

When the weather was really bad, I was scared to drive, So Diana said I could ride with her whenever I wanted to. I usually went in earlier than she did but on the bad days I always relied on her.

The group of people we ate lunch with slowly dwindled away until there was just the two of us. Our friendship blossomed into a true personal friendship that I valued so much. Ours was a warm, low-key and peaceful friendship and I loved her and I knew she felt the same way about me.

Diana was a very intelligent, kind, gentle and giving person. She wasn’t loud or boastful. She shared her achievements with me when she got a promotion, raise or pat on the back and she listened to mine. One beautiful fall day in 1986, we had lunch then went outside and sat on the steps. Our conversation that day was about getting old. She told me she just couldn’t get a picture of herself as old. I asked her why and she said she just didn’t think she would live that long. I said, “Oh Diana, that’s silly, you’re not sick or anything are you?” She said, “No, but I just don’t think I’ll live to get old.” She didn’t say it in a scared, upset manner. It was just in a matter-of-fact way. I have thought of that conversation so many times.

As her 40th birthday approached, she became more and more upset and depressed. I told her that turning 40 was just one day and that she wouldn’t fall apart, etc. I couldn’t understand it because Diana was not a vain person. I think somehow she knew what none of the rest of us knew.

The day she died, we had lunch and she walked me back to my office. She said, “Oh it’s supposed to start snowing tonight and be bad tomorrow, do you want me to pick you up in the morning.” I told her I would call her and let know that evening. She told me she was invited to stay over for an agent function but she would be home between 7:00 and 7:30. I called her later and Ed said she wasn’t home yet. He sounded worried and said he would have her call me when she came home. Around 9:30 or 10:00, Diane Leatherman called me with the awful news. Bill and I went to the Derr house and stayed with Ed and the children until his parents got there.

When I go to the cemetery to visit my first husband, I always visit with Diana, too. I miss her so much. She was such a good person.

I miss her too. I’m sad that she missed my sister’s wedding and meeting her two beautiful granddaughters. I’m sad that she never met Greg. I’m sure she would have loved him and welcomed him to our family. I miss the hugs, her laughter and her calm. But I’m so happy that I have letters like this and other memories that I will cherish always.