Skip to main content

My Memories of Mother

By Stephen C. Schultz

It was a warm summer morning in Eugene, Oregon. At 5 years old, I was hoping to spend the day on my bicycle. The gold Schwinn Stingray with the “Slick” rear tire was something to behold. I went around to the back of the house to get my bike. As I approached, my heart sunk. The rear tire on the bike was flat. I went back in the house to ask mom if I could walk my bike down to the gas station on the corner of 32nd Ave and Hilliard Street. There was a nice guy that worked there and he often helped me put air in my tires.

My mom said, “That's fine…be sure to look out for traffic.”

So, off I went down Harris Street walking my bike. My arms were out stretched about shoulder height, hands on the handles, walking on the left side of the bike. When I approached 32nd Ave, I turned left and headed down the hill. It wasn’t a steep hill, but there was a pretty good slope. The bike started to roll faster than I could keep up. I picked up the pace and started jogging beside the bike.

This situation wasn't out of control just yet and I wasn’t too worried. Just a few more blocks and the slope leveled out,

“I can make it…no problem”, I thought to myself.

I realized that as Kinkaid Street approached, the curb might cause a bit of a problem. I checked to make sure there were no cars at the corner and then proceeded. The front tire dropped off the curb and then the rear. The bike moved faster and as I approached the other curb, I tried to slow the bike. There was simply too much momentum for a five year old so I decided at the last minute to try and lift the front end of the bike. No good…the front tire hit the curb and the bike bounced back, handle bars spinning to the left. The left handle hit me solidly in the right eye brow splitting about a two inch gash.

I stood there stunned for a second, looking at my bike lying next to the curb. I put my hand up to my right eye to see what the throbbing was about. Blood dripped between my fingers and I began to cry. I decided I better get home. Mom was a nurse and I knew she could take care of this situation. I just left my bike on the corner and began walking the block and a half home.

About four or five houses down from our house on Harris Street, there was a man out watering his flowers. As I a came closer to his driveway, he stood there staring at me walking down the sidewalk. I stopped for a brief moment thinking he may speak to me or help in some manner. The blood had run down my face and across my eye lids so my right eye was stuck closed with dried and gooey blood. The man stood there, water from the hose washing out his flower bed. He just stared at me and didn’t say anything. I decided to move on and walked the rest of the way home.

I came in the front door and yelled for mom. She came out to the living room and in a calm manner said,

“Come on, let’s get you cleaned up.”

There was no panic, there was no questioning, there was simply a calm, trained loving mother taking care of her son. She got me cleaned up and put a “butterfly” bandage across my wound.

I have many memories of my Mother. The times that she comforted me; the time she got a ticket for going too slow on the freeway. There were many times out deer hunting when she helped with my school work and times when she rocked me to sleep, softly humming those motherly songs that all mothers seem to know. She taught me patience, service to others, kindness, courage, resilience, confidence and faith.

I hope we can all take a moment and show appreciation for those who gave us life.

Here is a previous post on my blog about an experience I had with my mother. Check it out.


Popular posts from this blog

Perfectly Wicked - A new take on an old fairy tale!

Guest Blogger Amanda Schultz Age 15 There she was…hair as black as night, lips as red as blood, skin as white as snow. Standing by the window, washing dishes, whistling while she worked. Snow White. I shudder with disgust every time I hear her name. What kind of a name is that anyway? “Snow White”. Gahhh, it’s a name that practically begs to be made fun of. Yet, there she goes, frolicking around like she owns the Enchanted Forest. No. I’m the Queen. I’m in charge. My magic mirror was mistaken. I’m the Fairest of them all, not that sorry excuse for a princess. One bite from my poison apple and that air-head will be so ugly not even her mother could love her. And I will be the Fairest once again! I suppose that I should rewind a little bit. It wasn’t always a competition between Snow White and me. In fact, back in the day, we had a nice little system going on. I would rule the kingdom and practice my magic, while Snow did the dishes and tended the garden. She stayed out of my w

An Open Letter to Parents Researching RedCliff Ascent

By Stephen C. Schultz "We will be known forever by the tracks we leave." Having been raised in Oregon, I spent the majority of my childhood and teenage year’s steelhead fishing the coastal waters, climbing the Middle Sister in the Cascade Mountain Range, drifting the McKenzie River and hiking the Pacific Crest Trail.  I have mentioned to friends, family and colleagues on many occasions;   “From a therapeutic standpoint, there is no better place to have a student’s issues manifested quickly than in a wilderness setting.” The question then becomes, “Why do therapeutic issues rise to the surface in an Outdoor Behavioral Healthcare program like RedCliff Ascent ?” Throughout the years of teenage development, most teens spend a lot of time with friends. These friends think the same, dress the same, act the same, listen to the same music and sometimes get into the same types of trouble. Some teens also develop patterns of communication and manipulation

Life transitions are inevitable! I'm no exception

By Stephen C. Schultz This is just a quick email to share with you that after 20 years with the Ascent Companies, I am making a transition. I want you to know that the last 20 years have been more than I could have ever wished for. What a great opportunity I have had to not only work with, serve with and be friends with all who are a part of the RCA , DRG , DRB , Oxbow , Discovery Day PHP , Connections and Oasis programs. I owe such a debt of gratitude to the four original owners, Dane Kay, Steve Peterson, Scott Peterson and Jim Salsbury for seeing my potential and taking a risk on me back in 2002. Steve Nadauld, Brent Hall, Andrea Burgess, Clint Dorny, Shawn Brooks, Steve DeMille and the program teams have been like family and an absolute joy to be around.  I feel honored to have played a small role in the success you as educational consultants, private clinicians and us as treatment providers (working together) have had over the years on literally thousands of families.  #GRATITUDE