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July 25, 2024 to
October 29, 2023
By Jim Cavnar
When
I think of Mom now I see her in that 1947 photo on the front page of the
New York Times � a beautiful 24-year old woman with black hair in a
stylish gray suit with flared skirt and padded shoulders holding a cute
baby (me) and walking up the airplane steps to greet her husband, the
dashing pilot hero returning from his daring Arctic rescue mission.
It�s
like something out of a movie. And what a movie I could make.
I
could flash back to her birth in 1922 to poor immigrant parents in
Cushing, Oklahoma. She grows up in a tiny farmhouse without running
water, toilet, or electricity. She and her sister, Grace, sleep in her
parents� bedroom until they leave for nursing school. They live through
the Depression and the Oklahoma Dustbowl days.
World War II begins and because of their Japanese name, the Nishimutas
experience suspicion, hostility, and threats. Margaret and Grace begin
to use their Spanish mother�s surname, Lorenzo, on their hospital
nametags so patients won�t refuse to let them into their rooms.
Margaret meets Bobbie Cavnar on a blind date and keeps dating him
because he is a good dancer. When marriage comes up, though, she, like
her mother before her, won�t consider it unless he becomes a Catholic.
He does � and it stuck, by the way � and they are married in 1944.
It�s
a stressful life with three children in two and one-half years, moving
sixteen times in four years, and alone for long stretches while her Air
Force husband is away fighting the Cold War.
Twenty years later the poor Oklahoma farm girl has six beautiful and
talented children and lives in a mansion in Dallas with a Cadillac in
the driveway.
A
real Hollywood ending? Well, not yet.
The
real story here is not the adventure of her life, it is the character
and heart of the woman who lived it. When I think back over the scenes
of her life story this is the woman � the mother � I see.
She
was a woman of grace. I still remember her teaching us how to have high
tea when we were kids so we could visit the Spanish aristocrat, Mrs.
Hamilton, at her elegant home in Washington, D.C. Mrs. Hamilton was the
person who brought Mom�s mother, the young Louisa Lorenzo, to the U.S.
to work for her as her maid. With that same grace Mom entertained
bishops, archbishops, and international dignitaries in her home, not to
mention 200 Dallas charismatics who came to pray each week for years.
That took a lot of grace in another sense too. And it was with great
grace and humor that she accepted the weakness and losses of old age and
illness.
She
was also a resourceful woman. No matter what the problem or need Mom
always seemed to have a solution. I remember that faux maple syrup she
would make when the Log Cabin bottle was empty. Out of toothpaste? She
had baking soda and salt ready to go. Boring summer nights in the years
before television? She taught us to play Canasta. And those 36-hour
non-stop car trips from Washington, DC to Okmulgee? She always came up
with a game or new treat hidden away for those last long hours. And
when the serious crises and burdens of life intruded she never lacked
the resources of prayer and faith.
She
was a woman of patient perseverance. Some would call it stubbornness.
Let�s just say nothing fazed her. No matter what the stresses of family
conflict and alienation she did not flinch or lose heart. When the
circumstances of life were difficult -- for example, having to pack up
and move one more time, she took it in stride and pushed ahead. If we
didn�t like a new school, or a new house, or a new job, she would say,
�Don�t worry. You can get used to anything.� And we did. She taught
us to persevere.
I
never knew her to be a woman who feared anything. I can�t ever recall
her expressing fear or anxiety. By her example and counsel she taught
us confidence that we also could persevere through hardship, that we
need not be afraid. When you were with her you came away equipped with
whatever you needed to go forth into any situation. Giving up was not
an option.
Above all, she was a woman of faith. Perhaps she learned it from her
mother who had spent eight years in a cloistered convent. I remember the
Advents when she set up the Cr�che and taught us to prepare the manger
for the baby Jesus by doing acts of charity, which permitted us to put a
straw in his manger. Or the Lents when she helped us learn to make
small sacrifices and find ways to serve others. Or the rosaries every
night during May, kneeling with her on the floor of the living room.
And what she taught, she lived. When she said she would pray for you
she did, often right then, even on the phone. And for years she led her
weekly women�s Bible study where scores of others were touched by her
faith in the Lord.
Cindy called it unflappable faith. �Pray without ceasing� faith. When
others doubted, she never did. As she often said, �When you pray you
should expect an answer.�
Her
faith was never so much in evidence as in her final years. With grace,
resourcefulness, perseverance, and faith she never lost heart, she
endured to the end. And she who taught faith and perseverance and love
learned to lean on the faith and perseverance and love of others. On
Dick and Kay, Chris and Anna, Sheila Duncan, and many friends here in
Dallas. In particular I want to thank Dick who so faithfully managed
all her finances, moves, and property after Dad�s death. Dick, we
really appreciate your unselfish service to Mom these last four years.
And
when she moved to Michigan she leaned on Mary, Cindy, Barb Brown, Paula
Davey, and many others who came faithfully to visit her every week, year
in and year out. And especially on Becky who cared for her with such
love and tenderness and joy these last four years. Becky, we are all so
deeply grateful for the blessing you brought to Mom�s final years.
As
for Mom, I envision her now, freed from the frail and ravaged body of
these last years, walking up those steps again like the vibrant 24-year
old in that old photo. And there to greet her this time is the radiant
Lord Jesus saying, �Well done, my sister, well done. You have fought
the good fight. You have finished the race. You have kept the faith.
Come, enter into the kingdom prepared for you since the foundation of
the world.�
And
I envision Dad, lifting her off her feet with a big bear hug and making
her laugh once again as he leads the saints in a big, �Three� two� one,
Glory!"
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