Rest in Eternal Peace Mom. Cheers! (January. 7, 1927 ~ July 31, 2021)
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| Mom and I yodeling at a wedding reception in the 1980's |
Luella Waveline Tucker was born in a house in the winter of
1927. Born into a Mennonite community, whiskey was on hand for medicinal
purposes and there was grave need of it that cold day. Little Lue was not
taking her first life-giving breath and the attending mid-wife did what any
good attendant would do; she gave her a baby shot of whiskey. It saved her
life. Maybe that’s what gave Mom her voice, for as she grew, she loved to sing,
and yes, even yodel.
In actuality Luella and all of her siblings loved to sing.
Her little brother had a Gretsch guitar which he later sold to her. She never
had lessons or even knew what notes she played but taught herself by listening
and watching. This was the days of radio, long before television, when kids
would curl up on the floor with their ear toward that little box with glowing
tubes and just a very few stations to listen in to. Roy Rogers was yodeling
over the air-waves and Lue listened intently, teaching herself to master her
own voice with the needed fluctuations between normal and falsetto. She and her
sisters also had the chance to sing live on the radio a time or two. Mom loved
to be in the spotlight, and I, the youngest of her kids…well, I am my mother’s
daughter.
Mom passed her love of music on to all of her children. She
would pull out that old Gretsch guitar and sing some of the most ridiculous
songs to make us all laugh. Songs long lost like Grandma’s Old Lye Soap, and
Tooth Pickin’ Time in False Teeth Valley. We loved Blue Grass music and loved
harmony. Blue Grass music is one of the easiest to pick up by ‘ear’ and jump
right in. Mom also taught me to yodel to Patsy Cline’s song, Cowboy Sweetheart.
I loved the music but to be honest, I was not as eager to sing in front of
others, and I know this disappointed her terribly. Getting in front of a crowd
to sing would quite literally give me twitches under my eye and shaking
‘buns’. I hated it and loved it all at
once.
Thanks to Luella, my simple mother, music has played an
integral part in my life, and in my transformation and conversion. When my
marriage was young as well as our kids, on any given day as I struggled along,
I’d take my horse out for a drive or trail ride and I’d sing. Old hymns I’d
grown up with would pour out in a prayer to God, seeking healing in my soul. I
love the memory of those days and look back with gratitude as I see how the
Lord used it all for His glory. He took His time and taught me, as I listened
in and learned by ‘ear’; the ear of the heart.
I found myself in a beautiful little country church; a place
where I thought I finally belonged. It was a wonderful community of both
farmers and country lawyers. It was also a place that nurtured my desire to
sing and those souls were so encouraging to me. But, it was also a time of
transition. I would drive out to the country and pop in a Gregorian Chant CD to
listen to (I had acquired a new-found love of chant), go to the church choir
practice, and then drive home crying. The chant was speaking to my soul. It
seemed as if this was a language that was pulling my heart toward a deeper
prayer. It was the language of Heaven and I grieved that I couldn’t understand
it even as it called to me. Gregorian Chant was converting my soul.
For two years I’d find myself running to Catholicism and
running away again. I loved what I had grown up with and the music which had
been a comfort to me. But it wasn’t about me. Music has it’s time and place and
I still love so many of the songs of my youth, but Chant is prayer and praise
to God alone, without a focus on the self. I couldn’t resist that Heavenly call and
after two years of struggle, I ran home; Home to the Catholic Church.
Over a decade has passed and I am now a cantor. It was quite
a struggle to put myself in front of others, to sing in front of family and
friends (and yes, at the beginning my buns did shake)! But the desire isn’t for
gaining attention for myself. My prayer, every time I sing, is for people to
listen with the ear of their hearts, to be transported into a deeper, more pure
worship of God, for all of their attention to be on Him, and not me.
I still love to yodel. I still love to harmonize (my secret
desire is to be a back-up singer) but everything must be in its place and time.
Sacred music is to be set apart; different from anything heard or experienced
out in the world. This most likely was not what my mother imagined when she
prayed for me to continue singing, but I do believe she has seen how God has
transformed me and the gift which He has honed is now being used for His glory.
So, thank you Mom, for the love of singing, and thanks to
the mid-wife who gave you that shot of whiskey. If you didn’t utter your first
cry, I never would have uttered mine. Cheers!
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| I've got my mothers lungs |
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