My dear reader, please forgive my utilization of this flawed vehicle as a way to convey a message that would be better delivered in person. As I struggle to compose these words, I am grappling with the unimaginable reality that earlier today my mother, Florene Finn Stovall, shuffled off this mortal coil and graduated to heaven. She is survived by my father, George Walter Stovall, who is the only man I ever met worthy of being her companion for most of 70 years. She is also survived by my younger brother, GR Bob Stovall, who is a towering example of her grace and wisdom. I am my parents third child. The first two only experienced this world as young children. My brother David was born with a lung disorder. He was only on this mortal plane for a handful of hours. My prayer for him has always been that he found a foothold in a bigger and better world beyond. Regular readers of my novels— along with patrons of my movies—have already met my sister, Nancy, via the film The Ultimate Gift. Nancy died of leukemia as a young girl, but she will forever be immortalized in the embodiment of the character Emily, so powerfully portrayed on the big screen by Oscar nominee, Abigail Breslin. As an infant, my earliest memories are of my big sister, Nancy. The images are vague and indistinct as more than fifty years have transpired, and I only have an infant’s perspective. But from time to time, I rekindle thoughts of Nancy as I replay the movie, The Ultimate Gift.
My late great friend and mentor, Paul Harvey, often apologized for injecting elements from his private life into his news cast. Mr. Harvey would sheepishly excuse himself by stating, “This next item is partly personal.” As I put my proverbial digital pen to this virtual electronic page, I am forced to admit this goes beyond partly personal and is predominately personal.
Among the many lessons my mother left with me is the power of perspective. Each day I pursue this by asking my digital companion, Alexa, “What happened today in history?” Ironically today, on the day of my mother’s death, in 1598 Mr. Shakespeare was giving birth to Hamlet and posing the eternal question, “To be or not to be?” My mother taught me in word and deed that once we are born, we are called into this world “To be.” From that moment forward, we become a part of everyone and everything. The concept of legacy demands that we are all destined, “to be,” and can therefore never choose “not to be.”
For those of you who did not know my mother, there is nothing I can say to adequately portray her. For those of you who knew my mother, there is nothing I need to say. However, friends and family might be surprised to know that in my earliest years, after Nancy passed, mom and I spent many of my preschool days playing cards. We didn’t have the “Godless” deck including Aces, Kings, and Jacks. Instead we used the playing cards from a popular game of the day called Authors. While other people’s cards feature hearts, diamonds, clubs, and spades, Mom and I shuffled and dealt cards with faded and grainy images of Nathaniel Hawthorne, Charles Dickens, Washington Irving, and many other literary giants. She spoke of them with such reverence that I knew nothing could be better in my life than to write something that might make Twain chuckle, Louisa May Alcott weep, or Longfellow contemplate.
When I was four years old, one of the most popular TV shows was Maverick starring James Garner. Maverick often played cards and could shuffle the deck masterfully, making the cards jump and dance. I tried to repeat Mr. Garner’s feats with my Author cards to no avail. I pointed to the TV and asked Mom, “How come our cards won’t do what his magic cards do?” Mom patiently explained, Maverick’s cards only did make believe tricks, but our Author cards were truly magic. She gave me a love of the written word within the brief window of time when I had learned the rudimentary tasks of spelling and writing but before the time when the words faded away as my sight left me.
As a young man, I became an athlete and forgot about authors, books, and words. But from time to time, Mom reminded me that while it was good to be an athlete, a man with muscles could move mountains, but a man with a message could move multitudes. In her own way, she raised me up in the way I should go, and thankfully, when I got older I didn’t depart from it. Ironically, decades later becoming an author myself brought me in contact with James Garner. When I told him about my mom’s thoughts about Maverick, he chuckled and confirmed, “Your mom was right. Not only were the cards not magic, they weren’t even my cards or my hands shuffling them.”
Mr. Garner told me they should resurrect the game Authors and put my picture on one of the cards. When I told my mom about Mr. Garner’s absurd idea, I was shocked when she calmly agreed with him. Mr. Garner brought one of my best literary characters to life when he became Red Stevens in The Ultimate Gift movie trilogy. If anyone ever did add me to a new deck of Author cards, my picture would not only be faded and grainy like the other writers, but it would be dwarfed by an image of my mom shown next to me projecting faith, wisdom, and confidence.
Through my writing and movie career, my mother got to meet a lot of celebrities and movie stars. She was polite and kind but not unduly impressed. I remember her telling a renown A-list actress, “You’re lucky to get to be one of Jim’s book people in the movies.” Everyone should have one fan in their life like my mom.
Regular readers of these Winners’ Wisdom columns in newspapers, magazines, and online publications around the world have no doubt already noticed that this week’s effort is a bit more expansive than normal. I am no doubt somehow misguidedly believing that I am holding onto Mom by not closing out this week’s effort. Mom was a huge fan of these columns. I’ve written over a thousand of them, and hundreds of times she told me, “This is your best column yet, but I know next week’s will be better.” As I use my confused mind and shaken spirit to imagine Mom looking over your shoulder as you read these words, I can only pray that somehow in some special way in some special place she is saying, “This is the best column you ever wrote, but I know next week’s will be even better.”
As you go through your day today, be thankful for those who have gone before us and made us who we are.
Today’s the day!