Storyteller Special Edition: Dear Mom: A Tribute to a Remarkable Woman
- Merry Sorrells
- Jan 25
- 7 min read
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The world lost an amazing woman when our 95-year-old mother passed away recently. Dolores Hurt Pease’s life was long, meaningful, and well-lived. Her love remains with us, and her presence will be forever missed. This was meant to be an obituary, but instead, in the writing, it turned into a letter of love and gratitude.
Dear Mom,
It has only been a few days since you left this world and moved on to your next adventure. Your exit was quiet, peaceful, and thanks to technology, the moment you chose to breathe your last breath was one that allowed all of your children to be present with you. In these past weeks and months, as the challenges of health drew you more into yourself, you gave us time to adjust to the thought of you not being here to love and guide us as you always have.
Dee was the name you chose for yourself, or Mom for us, Nan Dee for your grandchildren, and Grand Dee for your great-grandchildren. Your given name, Dolores, literally translates to mean “sorrow” and “pain,” and you so disliked it that you went by Dee and decided to name your children happy names, Holly, Merry, and Joy.
Grace and poise were the lead lessons for success that you led with. Our family wasn’t rich, but you raised us to be comfortable in any social situation. After our Sunday family dinners at the dining room table, you would read chapters to us from manners experts Emily Post and Amy Vanderbilt. We learned to set a formal table and carry on thoughtful dinner conversations. You had us practice ascending and descending the staircase, balancing a book on our heads so we would learn not to bounce from stair to stair. You taught us to get up from a chair, and enter and exit a car gracefully and modestly. We learned to polish silver as well as to eat delicately from it. We all left home feeling as though we could be in the presence of kings, presidents, and diplomats, and know how to carry ourselves with the same poise and grace that you embodied.
We grew up loving to read. Every night, well into our teenage years, you sat on the edge of our beds and read books to us. By the time we were in high school, you were teaching us the beauty of the classics. Your book collection was full and rich, and as you first opened each new book, you taught us how to gently handle it so as not to break the binding. Our home was the only one we knew that had a room designated as a library. We learned to treat books with love and respect, knowing that they would become our windows to the world. The library was a favorite spot in our outings into town.
You weren’t big on hugging or holding hands, but we always felt incredibly loved. You showed us how much you loved us through how you cared for us. Raising and keeping three little ones warm in Chicago winters had to be so challenging. Each freezing morning, we would come to the door to leave for school, and there you would be with our hats, mittens, scarves, and snow jackets laid out on the radiators. Putting on those toasty garments bolstered us for stepping out in the arctic weather. In the springtime, you would often surprise us by coming to school at lunchtime with a lunch basket and checking us out to join you for a picnic in the park. You loved us with a very present and tangible love, which we all embraced and depended on.
Mom, you showed your love in so many ways. Every holiday was extraordinary! The house was always decorated to the hilt, inside and out. We could hardly wait to return from church on Thanksgiving morning and walk into a house that held all the sights and scents of a traditional dinner steaming away on the cooktops and behind the oven door. You were famous, in our family, for your table decorating. The pilgrim dress you wore as you served Thanksgiving dinner to family and friends was so unique. Christmas was a season, and not just a day. We would return home from school each frosty December day to sit and visit with you at the kitchen table, treated to hot cocoa and cookies while we shared all the news of our schooldays. The Fourth of July was a huge event in our little Village of Riverside, IL. We decorated our bikes and rode alongside the veterans and townsfolk in the parade. You passed your love of patriotism and citizenship along to each of us. We each took turns with you in the voting booth to learn the importance of contributing to a healthy democracy. The neighbors were treated to the sight of us marching down our long driveway, in unison, alongside you, carrying the American flag to the edge of the sidewalk and saluting as you posted it in the flag holder attached to the grand elm tree. After we saluted, we would always recite the Pledge of Allegiance and sing a patriotic song. We still know every patriotic song by heart. Each of us thinks of you, and our country, with pride, and we will continue to shed a tear as we sing the Star Spangled Banner, hand over heart, now and well on into the future. As parents and grandparents ourselves, we all decorate and celebrate the holidays with our families in the same spirit that you taught us.
Through your example, we all were encouraged to love learning and hard work. While we were in grade school, you took night classes to learn “the new math” so you would be able to help us with our homework. While we were in high school, you attended the Chicago Academy of Fine Arts to finish your Bachelor's degree. We were all so proud of your academic achievements. Our high school friends would come over even when we weren’t home, to visit with you and share their thoughts and ideas with you. We all remember being so proud of having the most beautiful mother in our school, one who wore jeans and sat cross-legged on the floor and entertained us along with our friends. You taught us that you didn’t need a big wardrobe to be stylish, just a few classic, quality pieces of clothing would always allow you to match the most elegant outfit in the room. You always kept a full-length black skirt and an elegant white blouse at the ready for special occasions.
You were a great storyteller and the stories you told of your childhood experiences always had us guessing if they were fact, fiction, or fantasy. Whichever they were, they were legendary and will have us laughing and retelling well into the future. Athletics came naturally to you having grown up doing heavy chores on a farm. The tales you told us of out-performing your brothers in athletic events, and even picking up dad, boosting him up over your head, and tossing him onto the sand were incredible at best and figmentally funny at worst. We grew up playing on teams and learning to compete like champions on the fields and courts. From you, we learned to win and lose with equal grace.
Another ethic that you modeled for us was that of hard work. Our house was immaculate, and you taught us how to keep it that way. Though probably not our favorite of the lessons you taught us, your standard for cleanliness was unyielding. We did housework and chores inside and outside right alongside you and often found ourselves having to redo a chore to bring it up to your level of approval. Partners in business, you and Dad worked side by side, you volunteered at Church and our schools, at the Lyric Opera and the local Garden Club, hosted parties for your friends, tended to our grandparents, and never stopped your tireless working. Our garden was filled with the hundreds of tulips you planted, which could make our hearts skip when they bloomed in unison. The promise of spring always came with the tip of the crocus bloom pushing up through the harsh winters snow. You wanted us to experience the beauty of the seasons.
Decidedly, the greatest gift you gave our whole family was our religion, Christian Science. You taught us how to trust in God for all our needs. Each of us grew up knowing that we are a loved child of God. In turn, we taught this to our own children. Each of us has been blessed with this clear understanding of the faith that leads the way and lights our path. We rely on our faith today to lead us through every challenge, including the challenge of missing you.
We learned so many of life’s lessons at your knee and through your example. Our hope is that we always make you proud and that we always live up to your high expectations for us. Many of the niceties mentioned in this letter to you are not as familiar in today’s world as they were in our growing-up years, but the value in these lessons are timeless and more important today than ever. We will miss you forever, Mom, but your presence will be ever with us through the lessons you taught us, the example you set for us, and the precious love that you shared with us.
With so much love and gratitude,
Holly, Merry, and Joy
As a side note here, I have spent my professional life as an administrator in schools, always trying to determine what skills we need to teach our students for them to be successful in such an uncertain future. I realize now that our mother had her own convictions of what young people needed to know, and I had much of my answer in front of me for most of my life, by her example. Merry
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