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Home > Mothers Day > Poetry > SPRING TREASURES: A Mother's Day Tribute

SPRING TREASURES: A Mother's Day Tribute
by S. Marie Hugo

Early in the morning on April 2nd 1993 while showering, my phone rang. It made me wonder, "Uh-oh, what happened?" Hearing footsteps walking toward the bathroom, I slowly opened the shower curtain. Meeting my husband face to face with his outstretched hand holding the cordless phone, he sadly mumbled, "It's your Mom; something's wrong." Stumbling over the tub, I stood nude taking the phone from his hand and voicing a good morning "Hi". My moms morning greeting wasn't so perky. "OH SHARRON...Alan Kulwicki died in an airplane crash yesterday!" She expressed in horror. Listening with shock, dripping droplets of water onto the floor, I searched frantically for a towel to wrap around myself so I could find a comfortable spot to sit down. Wrapped in a bath towel, sitting upon the bathroom rug, I listened with sadness hearing my mother's grieving voice explain the details. I thought to myself, "Oh my gosh, she sounds devastated, like someone in our own family just died."...But you see.... Alan was a part of our family. We're NASCAR fans.

Our family grew up being race fans. Starting in May, every Thursday my sister and I would arrive home from school and be greeted at the door. "It's racing night, finish your homework and take a nap." Funny thing...I never argued with my mom over taking a nap. Sis and would under take our homework assignments as quickly as we could and both snuggle together in our double bed while we listened to all the neighborhood kids congregate for an afternoon swim at the house across the street. We lulled ourselves to sleep with thoughts of crashing cars and eagerly awaited the aroma of burning tires.

My dad would even plan a weeks vacation every summer to travel the tracks in Michigan and Ohio. He knew where the hot racers were racing. In 1984 Dad died.

Winters were lonely for Mom from then on but every February she came alive. She would always have a certain spark about her. She spent Saturday's watching Busch Grand National (BGN) and Sunday's watching NASCAR and "her" Alan on T.V. If I wasn't able to be at her house to watch the races with her, she kept the phone nearby so we could call each other to discuss how good Alan was running.

While at our local track one night, Mom purchased Alan's collectible Matchbox car. She displayed it on top of her T.V. While she watched the NASCAR race she would hold and pat it rooting, "COME ON ALAN! COME ON ALAN!!!!!" When he won the 1992 Winston Cup Championship, I never saw anybody so excited and thrilled! She even kissed his little car! Anything she could get her hands on of Alan's she had; posters, t-shirts, news-articles, etc. She treated and respected him as her own son. She was so proud all curled up on her couch watching him receive his awards at the NASCAR banquet; you would have thought she was in New York City with him.

Alan's death was very devastating for her. She mourned for
days. On April 16th Mom's lung collapsed. Things didn't seem too bad and the doctors assured us that she would get better soon and come home. I had purchased an Alan Kulwicki sweatshirt at a local car show for her for Mother's Day. I presented it to her while she was in the hospital. Almost comatose, she just smiled.

On April 27th Mom joined Alan forever. Her all-time favorite
number was always #7.

My sister and I decided to bury Mom's little Matchbox car #7 with her and placed it upon her ashes. Treasures that will be held in our hearts forever.

As local racetracks open all over the North Country this weekend. While the opening track prayer is recited, we pray for my mom and Alan.

Spring treasures forever.
S. Marie Hugo

About S. Marie Hugo
S. Marie Hugo
, Author of
TENDERPAIN..After Daddy's Suicide..a poetic journey, (ISBN 0-9704463-0-6) a poetic memoir of a father's life and tragic death seen through the eyes of his daughter. This compelling collection of verses will show a satisfying blend of strength, hope, survival and love throughout the authors healing journey. S. Marie lives in a city once called a village, Essexville, Michigan. The craft she calls her most loved passion is writing children's picture books. Visit Marie Hugo at Hugo's Haven.




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