Happy Mother's Day to Doctor Lynn and Miss Lily

Happy Mother’s Day, Doc Lynn and Miss Lily…..
It’s spring again and her small yard is a mass of blooms. When husband takes Bucket for a walk, he bring me back flowers from her yard. Doc Lynn was an extraordinary American woman. If ever I could have “picked” another mother, it would have been her, and it’s time to tell you about the person she was…… along with Miss Lily, cuz they were a pair.
Doc Lynn was a 5th generation physician, tall and slender. Her face was rugged. You could look at her and imagine her in a wagon train, one of those who settled the west. And determined….. by God, that was one determined woman. She never married, but never she never lacked for children as she delivered half the town. She went fishing on Wednesdays with a sweet bass boat and mowed her own lawn well into her upper 80’s.
Most of all, by force, she adopted me, but never said so. It just sort of happened, over time. Perhaps, she thought I could use a gentle hand and a strong influence. I had no choice in the matter. If ever there were two people of similar temperament, it was the two of us. Independent, strong, prickly. Yep, those are the ones who need love the most. Sometimes, we didn’t have to say a word…… a glance did the trick.
Doc Lynn lived catty corner to the B&B. When I moved home, I was under the FALSE impression I was a decent woman, willing to work hard, fairly smart, good schools, honorable family, treated my fellow man with kind regard, and had a few accomplishments under my belt. I was wrong. There was a whole parallel world of information to which I had not been exposed. I was clueless, awkward, inept, and out of my element. Doc Lynn was a pro, an expert, experienced in every subject where I was lacking.
Our home was abandoned for 23yrs when we bought it and the renovation took 6 months. Those were long and hard 16 hour days, when I would tumble into bed. About once a month, Doc Lynn would show up at my house, barging in, giving tours to her relatives or a town forefather. She never knocked and most of the time, she ignored my presence. I wasn’t sure if I should be offended. In the city, we at least knocked or rang a doorbell. She didn’t care.
For the first couple of years, late afternoons and on weekends, I was constantly interrupted by poor, mostly minority, townspeople, in worn down cars, who thought our house was her’s. I would stop what I was doing, point across the street, to redirect them. You see, in her later years, she saw patients at her back door, kids examined on top of her washing machine or dryer, for $2 a visit……… You read that right, $2 a visit……… In the 60’s, she was the most highly published diagnostician in the New England Journal of Medicine. In the 70’s, so the legend goes, she was the most highly published in the same journal for pediatrics. I had no idea at the time.
When I got pregnant, the world shifted a little on its axis. Of course, I searched for the best OB-GYN, read all their malpractice briefs, and perused their medical school ranking. I found THE BEST. Gunner’s doc was Chief of Pediatrics at a Children’s Hospital and also had a nationally syndicated show on PBS. She was THE BEST. I thought that was what I was supposed to do. Typical, northeast mindset. I was blinded by what I thought were norms. Conditioned by the media and society.
One night, I was up with Gunner all night, and called their 24 hour nurse hotline. They could not see me until 7:00am. I left the house at 6:00am, no sleep, to go downtown, Gunner crying and wailing the whole way. Maximum level stress. Finally, our premier pediatrician squirted a little Mylanta into his mouth. He burped, farted, and he was fine, with a $175 bill. I was furious. Never mind my own ignorance, why let my child suffer needlessly? Why didn’t they tell me that over the phone? All I got was their excuses. I stormed out of the office and vowed to never return.
A few days later, a scratched my eye with a floral wire, 3 hours before a formal dinner for our best customer, and their best client. The staff could never manage without me but I didn’t have time for an emergency room visit. I found myself at Doc Lynn’s back door, waiting in the driveway with other patients, sufficiently humbled. I really just wanted to know if I scratched the cornea and needed an emergency room. My turn arrived and I entered her utility room. I thought it was our first real encounter, but I was wrong again.
“Well…….,”, she gloated, “it’s been a long time since I’ve seen you……” She flipped open a crusty old file on her washing machine, and wrote down the date. My name was on the top of the file. I reached for the file, but she pinned me with her hip. She had me in a cathold. “Quit squirming and let me see your eye.”, she said, “Hold it open with your fingers, I can’t do all the work.” My eye was on fire but I responded instantly to her commands. “You’re going to be fine. No damage, just a close call.”, she said, and was already moving for bandages. Once I was freed, with my good eye, I checked the file.
Doc Lynn was my pediatrician. I read notes about my mom, dad, grandparents, and a checkerboard cake. My mind was racing, remembering all the checkerboard cakes mom made when I was a kid. Another note about a spill I took, learning to ride a bike, “She’ll have a small scar.” I looked at my arm, sure enough, small scar right where the drawing said it would be. It was a time warp. She sensed my confusion. It was a perfect gotcha moment and I was in the crosshairs. “That’ll be $2.00, please.”, she said. I tried to pay her $20. “Nope, $2 a visit.”, she was defiant. I argued, “Well then, let me pay for the next 10 people standing in your driveway.” She softened and compromised. It was the beginning of our friendship.
A few days later, we had a hellacious storm and a power outage. Doc Lynn was all alone. I called to see if she was okay. “I’m not dead yet, you don’t need to check on me.”, came her retort. Bristly……. by God she was bristly.
I took classes from a local extension office and became a Master Gardener. Another revelation to me – saved me tens of thousands of dollars. Doc Lynn showed up with a seedling tree, “Plant this in that corner, over there.”, she pointed. “Yes mam”, I replied.
Mother-in-law started to date the widowed former Mayor. He and Doc Lynn were old friends. Thus, Doc Lynn became a regular at our table for Easter, Thanksgiving, etc. She warmed up to me. I sure was trying….. wanted her respect but it was tough slog.
One night, Gunner was up, all night, and fussy. I was walking the floor. About 3:30am, the phone rang and both husband and I jumped. When the phone rings at that time of the morning, someone is dead. It was Doc Lynn. “You’re lights are on”, she said, “Is my baby okay?” Gunner was her baby, noted. I started crying……… and I never cry. She hung up on me and was at the side porch door in less than 3 minutes. “Give me that baby.” she said. Doc Lynn worked her magic and walked with Gunner in the cool night air, from the side porch and back into our den, pacing. I walked with her. She stopped and looked at me sternly, and warned me about my first husband. She didn’t think he treated me well. Her’s was the first warning I received. She was right.
I was making a bed in a guest room when I heard footsteps upstairs, in the attic. I thought, do we have gigantic racoons? No. Four ladies emerged from the attic stair door, giggling. Doc Lynn was giving someone a tour of my attic. Gee, never thought my attic would be a tourist destination. “Oh, there you are”, she said, “I had some cousins in town and thought they would like to see…….”……. my attic?
When I divorced first husband and started dating second husband, his four daughters came to visit. Third daughter forgot her medication for ADHD and went to see Doc Lynn for what we thought would be a quick prescription. Oh, no. Doc Lynn spent 30 minutes with Lizzie and pronounced….. she had no problem. “That girl is fine, give her something to do.”, she said. Lizzie was a completely different child after that visit. I could see the pain in my boyfriends face. The daughter’s problems caused great division in his family, probably the primary cause of his divorce, and she had no problem. She never took another pill for ADHD and as his ex-wife explained, “Lizzie grew out of it”, miraculously, during her 10 days in the south.
Second husband was anxious to win the approval of Doc Lynn and always tried to impress her. She was apprehensive. No one was good enough for me. She decided to take Gunner and husband’s youngest daughter, both about 6yrs old, fishing. She wanted to talk to the kids in order to decide if he was okay. Smart woman. Doc Lynn told him, “He was the only Yankee she ever liked.”
Several years passed as I went through a long and difficult divorce. One day, Doc Lynn sent me her primary maid and gardener, Miss Lily. Again, I had no option. Unbeknownst to me, Miss Lily was a spy for Doc Lynn, just to see if I was okay, several times a week.
Miss Lily and I ended up as great friends. She became my primary exec housekeeper but I trusted her with my life and our relationship was deep. Miss Lily had a checkered past. She was a stripper, cocaine addict, and in prison for murdering her first husband…….. with a spoon. She found God and God could not have asked for a better person than Lily. She was a treasure. In fact, Miss Lily had a profound influence on Gunner and the girls.
The one thing I never tolerated was disrespect to our staff, no matter who they were or what the situation. Miss Lily had free reign to treat Gunner just as she would treat her own children. I don’t know if she ever spanked Gunner, but if she would have, she would have had a good reason to do so. Gunner knew better. When the girls came to visit and treated Miss Lily as a maid, Gunner’s little eyes went wide, “You’re going to get in trouble……”, he warned. Sure enough, they had their rooms cleaned up, beds made, in nothing flat. They were all cleaned and scrubbed, clothes freshly ironed, and ready for dinner. They were ready for a photographer. I thought……. what’s that worth…….. to a mom….. with 5 active kids? Oh…., Miss Lily was priceless.
One day, Lily and Doc Lynn showed up to grab the boys. Gunner had a bunch of friends spending the night, video game marathon….. Miss Lily and Doc Lynn had shovels in their hands and needed help. Never any argument. Off went the boys with them. The cleaned up an old cemetary where some of Doc Lynn’s ancestors died of yellow fever.
As the kids reached high school, one by one, they were involved in various pursuits. Our church would come out for support…. but Miss Lily’s church members came out as well. Pictures, picnics, and BBQ’s all around.
When Doc Lynn’s house went up for sale, Miss Lily came back to clean up the yard and get the house ready. Lily was there for several weeks. Our dogs, Football and Bucket would not stay in our yard when Lily was at Doc Lynn’s. They wanted to go and see Lily.
All the kids are grown and gone, with a few still left in college, two of them are married and we are waiting on our first grandchild. Several of them wrote their college essays about Miss Lily or Doc Lynn. Miss Lily retired and Doc Lynn died, age 94, a couple of years ago. Time marches on.
Yet, as I sit here, on this cool spring morning, looking across the street at Doc Lynn’s yard, awash in blooms, I cannot help but think of her as Mother’s Day approaches. Yeah, she would have been the mom I would have chosen. And Lily, well, Lily was amazing every single day. No dictionary has enough adjectives to describe either woman.
With a send cup of coffee, I glanced over to Bucket, our dog. Her mother, Football, died last year. As I’m watching Bucket, I realized she is perched on the top step of the side porch, surveying her domain, the yard, the school and Doc Lynn’s house. Bucket still barks when she sees an intruder at Doc Lynn’s. A dog always knows. Old loyalties never die.
While mothers and grandmothers have incredible influence in our lives, other women appear……… and change our lives, for the better. Surely, everyone here has a similar story about a woman. Who were these women to you? It’s time to talk about them. Tell YOUR stories……….
I’m already accumulating my list for Father’s Day.
Time to bake a cake. Happy Mother’s Day to all!