Even though I read this poem more than some 20 years ago, the image of that bloody red cutting through the dark has remained with me. It was a guide to me--the reason I was the mother I was. My mother was also like Millie's. She once told me that my brothers and sisters and I were the priority in deciding where money would be spent. They decided that music lessons, travel, theatre productions, education and hobbies for US would be more important than extra experiences for her and dad. I didn't agree with her decision--and so even when my own children were young, I found time and Brent found the money to let me ride horses, take piano lessons, and even participate in community theatre productions.
When we moved to a new place, which happened quite frequently while our children were growing up, Brent would go first and find a house for us. By the time I had sold the other house and brought the children and the movers to our new home, all of Brent's coworkers knew all about me and the things that I loved to do. They thought it's strange that he did not have a boat or a jet ski or a woodworking shop or travel to exotic places. He told everyone that I was his hobby; watching me grow and flourish was what he enjoyed the most.
I was his life.
While he was an undergraduate, I began my Master's degree in English. While he was in law school, I taught part time in the evenings. When he finished his studies in law, he asked me to do what I could to take a full-time job during his last semesters. If I would put him through law school, he would provide for us--for me--for the rest of our lives. In 1985, I graduated from Drake University and then worked for Dickinson, Throckmorton, Parker, Mannheimer & Raife, in Des Moines, Iowa {a firm that has evolved through several mergers and name changes, ultimately becoming Dickinson, Mackaman, Tyler & Hagen by 1993, and merging with Bradshaw in 2024 to become Dickinson Bradshaw}.
I worked as a legal assistant (paralegal) in the Estate division of the firm.
Since Brent graduated, passed the Texas Bar, and was hired in the legal department of the Federal Home Loan Bank. He was one of the first attorneys to work with swaps--trading losses from one entity for another's gains.
I have never worked for a salary--volunteered for many organizations, yes, but never to receive a monthly stipend.
I learned from this poem that my life didn't end at my marriage to Brent. Instead, it truly began. Brent has been my life and my love. He has given his whole life to supporting me and our children. He has been my savior in so many ways. Together we have lived as an eternal family. I've worn my "red dress" for the past 44 years. As the patriarchal leader, true to his priesthood calling, Brent has allowed me to grow in the Gospel with him.
Not only would Brent have loved my "red dress", he would have asked me to wear it for him every day.
Millie’s Mother’s Red Dress
by Carol Lynn Pearson
It hung there in the closet
While she was dying, Mother’s red dress,
Like a gash in the row
Of dark, old clothes
She had worn away her life in.
They had called me home
And I knew when I saw her
She wasn’t going to last.
When I saw the dress, I said
“Why, Mother – – how beautiful!
I’ve never seen it on you.”
“I’ve never worn it,” she slowly said.
“Sit down, Millie – – I’d like to undo
A lesson or two before I go, if I can.”
I sat by her bed
And she sighed a bigger breath
Then I thought she could hold.
“Now that I’ll soon be gone,
I see some things.
Oh, I taught you good – – but I taught you wrong.”
“What do you mean Mother?”
“Well – – I always thought
That a good woman never takes her turn,
That she’s just for doing for somebody else.
Do here, do there, always keep
Everybody else’s wants tended and make sure
Yours are at the bottom of the heap.”
“Maybe someday you’ll get to them.
But of course you never do.
My life was like that – – doing for your dad,
Doing for the boys, for your sisters, for you.”
“You did – – everything a mother could.”
“Oh, Millie, Millie, it was not good – –
For you – – for him. Don’t you see?
I did you the worst of wrongs.
I asked for nothing – – for me!”
“Your father in the other room,
All stirred up and staring at the walls – –
When the doctor told him, he took
It bad – – came to my bed and all but shook
The life right out of me. ‘You can’t die,
Do you hear? What’ll become of me?’
‘ What’ll become of me?’
It’ll be hard, all right when I go.
He can’t even find the frying pan, you know.”
“And you children – –
I was a free ride for everybody, everywhere.
I was the first one up and the last one down
Seven days out of the week.
I always took the toast that got burned,
And the very smallest piece of pie.”
“I look at how some of your brothers
Treat their wives now
And it makes me sick, ’cause it was me
That taught it to them. And they learned,
They learned that a woman doesn’t
Even exist except to give.
Why, every single penny that I could save
Went for your clothes, or your books,
Even when it wasn’t necessary.
Can’t even remember once when I took
Myself downtown to buy something beautiful – –
For me.”
“Except last year when I got that red dress.
I found I had twenty dollars
That wasn’t especially spoke for.
I was on my way to pay extra on the washer.
But somehow – – I came home with this big box.
Your father really gave it to me then.
‘Where you going to wear a thing like that to – –
Some opera or something?’
And he was right, I guess.
I’ve never, except in the store,
Put on that dress.”
“Oh Millie – – I always thought if you take
Nothing for yourself in this world
You’d have it all in the next – – somehow
I don’t believe that anymore.
I think the Lord wants us to have something – –
Here – – and now.”
“And I’m telling you , Millie, if some miracle
Could get me off this bed, you could look
For a different mother, ’cause I would be one.
Oh, I passed up my turn so long
I would hardly know how to take it.
But I’d learn, Millie.
I would learn!”
It hung there in the closet
While she was dying, Mother’s red dress,
Like a gash in the row
Of dark, old clothes
She had worn away her life in.
Her last words to me were these:
“Do me the honor, Millie,
Of not following in my footsteps.
Promise me that.”
I promised.
She caught her breath
Then Mother took her turn
In death.
