Photo is of James O'Connell Morgan and Wesley A Morgan (me) around 2011. Dad passed away at age 95 in 2013. Nothing beat seeing my dad laugh. He wasn't always amused by stuff I said in jest but maybe my favorite was at a gathering of Morgans after mom died in 2011. I was play acting about bragging about my my father's time in the Army when he was a camouflage expert. I postured as a proud son bragging that "My dad was so good at camouflage that there are military installations in California they still can't find. He was that good." (I still smile when I recall his sincere laughter at that wise crack.)
My college pal and long time friend, David Drimer, reminded me on a phone call recently that one of his favorite Wes Morgan quotes is my profound declaration: "Some people say I don't have priorities. I disagree, I have priorities - they're just not in the right order."
I credit this quote to him. It's sort of the same vintage. "I learn from my mistakes. Given the opportunity, I could repeat them exactly." Dave reminded me of another gem I used to say a lot. "It isn't easy being anybody. But no-one is better at being you." The point is to remind people that in spite of whatever struggles they face, they can approach life with their own unique style/brand. Dave forwarded this cartoon with a chuckle as a Morgan theory "corollary".
My Siblings have heard me say a bit of wisdom that I attribute to observing my mother in action. "The truth belongs to the teller". Mom was a talented actress and director of community theater with a Masters in Dramatic Arts from Case Western Reserve University. (She earned that Masters degree after having 6 kids.) Clearly she understood the art of storytelling. She often repeated her version of of reality.
- Greg was christened the "navigator" on family road trips. He also "Fixed the vacuum cleaner when he was 4 years old."
- Dan was always "so sensitive."
- Sundance (formerly known as Jimmy) was not responsible and lost every wrist watch he ever owned when he was growing up.
- Mom and Dad agreed that Rob "is the best." That declaration went with the prize of having his aging parents moving close to him in their senior years.
On the occasion of my parents 50th wedding anniversary. I couldn't wait to offer my toast. My punch line was a matter of fact statement:
"You know I lived with these people 18 years. I don't know how they managed to live with each other for 50."
On more than one wedding occasion I offered this bit of tongue-in-check: "You know Marriage isn't a WORD. It's a SENTENCE."
I started calling my sister "Zsa Zsa" as a sort of celebration of her surviving 3 marriages. (If you are scoring at home: 6 Morgan Siblings - 11 marriages.)
I love it when my kids quote me is some amusing ways. My son, for example, gives me credit for saying "80% of life is showing up."
Similarly, my daughter remembers that I avoid left turns so enthusiastically that I would prefer to make three right turns to avoid the traffic dilemmas that can come in spite of turn signals and traffic laws.
80% is showing up.
It's not easy being anybody. (But no-one is better at being you.)
I have priorities...
The Truth belongs to the Teller.
"Having kids takes two things: Money and Energy. If you wait for one you might not have the other." (I used to say that a lot when I was a dad in my 20s and early 30s with Lindsey born in 1982 and Ben born in 1986)
"Empty your mind, be formless. Shapeless, like water. If you put water into a cup, it becomes the cup. You put water into a bottle and it becomes the bottle. You put it in a teapot, it becomes the teapot. Now, water can flow or it can crash. Be water, my friend.”
― My remarks on the occasion of my Mom's passing
It’s All About Me.
Saying goodbye as the curtain closes.
February 26, 1922- May 31, 2011
My mom died this past week and suddenly it dawns on me what made her so great. She had this uncanny way of making you feel special. Case in point: I was one of six children – number three in order of birth – but she insisted in calling me the “oldest of the four.” Maybe it was to ignore my older siblings. I don’t think so. Maybe it was to deprive me of the middle child syndrome. Probably not.
My brother is 11 years older. So, for a long time, he was an only child. My sister is three years older and the only girl. My brother Greg was declared the “navigator” on family vacations and relished the opportunity to monitor the maps and travel directions. He was “Greg the Great” on his birthday cakes from Hough Bakeries every year. Dan was always “so sensitive.” Rob is the youngest and both parents pronounced him “the Best” which, no doubt gave him the ability to be his own person. Each of us had a niche that helped us define ourselves. Each, in our own way, a self-fulfilling prophesy.
Mom was larger than life. She loved the theater. She performed in countless community productions. She directed plays too. She and dad made annual trips to New York City that included Broadway Shows, of which she kept a collection of Playbill programs. She studied and read plays. She completed a Master’s Degree in Dramatic Arts at Case Western Reserve University in her early forties. She was talented. She could turn on the star-power at business functions with important clients, at parties, at social events, at presentations, in large rooms, in small rooms or one-on-one. She had skills she was able to use in juggling six children in a way that made each feel unique and special.
The drama of growing up, as you might imagine, with mom directing the activity, is one that includes countless sub-plots. After all, life isn’t easy – even if you are fortunate enough to live with the Morgan family at 15106 Edgewater Drive. As we reflect on our experiences and memories of mom we each have our own take on what it all means.
The Irish Catholic in mom would have been smiling when we came together in Southlake, Texas to celebrate her life. May the road rise to meet you. May the wind be ever at your back. May the good Lord bless and keep you in the hallow of his hand. It was a competition, as family members took turns sharing stories often not waiting for a lull in the cacophony of overlapping dialogue, tears and laughter. (After all, we naturally want to cast ourselves in the lead role of this production.)
We compete for airtime because we want to perform and entertain. Indeed, we are all talented in projecting lines and expressing ourselves. The stories are all familiar and retold with the usual flaws due to our own brand revisionist history. Mom always said “I will do anything for you kids, as long as you remember.” We will mom. (Even though, with time, we may modify a detail in the script or staging.) We are all grown up now, but when we are together we cannot forget that we were all once just children. The sadness only comes when we realize we must go on without you mom.
If the job of a parent is to raise children to be self-confident and assured we have it in abundance.
Dad is 93, and still has the ability to laugh at things. Mom was that woman behind the great man. Dad served in WWII. He started a business and ran it successfully for the better part of four decades. All the while, mom is ready for each grand entrance at the Cleveland Yachting Club, the family road trip to the Football Hall of Fame in Canton (Ohio) or at a parent-teacher conference. Someone’s got to feed these kids too. She is not much of a cook, but the dinner theater makes up for it. So it’s Hamburger-Helper, Sloppy Joes, Pizza, Tuna Casserole or mom’s famous chicken soup. There’s always enough somehow. Take your time eating and chew your food. If you are good you might just get a chocolate cupcake for desert.
The outpouring of sympathy from friends of the family on social media (notably facebook postings) starts to give a picture of just what a magnificent performance her life was. “Your mom was a great lady.” “Your mom helped my mother deal with the death of my father and gave her courage to go on.” “I always loved your mom.” “I remember having so much fun when I was at your house growing up.”
As I look around the room at my siblings, I see they all have self-confidence. They all have that extra talent it takes to be a successful person. Whatever you do: Photographer, Commercial Real Estate Advisor, Retailer, Tennis Instructor, Corporate Communications Specialist or Company President, you will need that. If you are lucky, someone will catch you early in your development and say. “Oh honey, you always know just what to do. Just make sure you remember to enunciate, pronounce your words and project.” It’s all about me. Thanks mom.
Wes Morgan is director of marketing and communications for Crossland Construction Company, a top building contractor based in Kansas (with offices in Missouri, Arkansas and Texas). Morgan is also founder of Morgan Studio/East, a firm that help companies with planning and execution of effective communications. For More Information e-mail morganwes@aol.com or visit www.morganstudioeast.com
Rev 6-7-2011
Saying goodbye as the curtain closes.
February 26, 1922- May 31, 2011
My mom died this past week and suddenly it dawns on me what made her so great. She had this uncanny way of making you feel special. Case in point: I was one of six children – number three in order of birth – but she insisted in calling me the “oldest of the four.” Maybe it was to ignore my older siblings. I don’t think so. Maybe it was to deprive me of the middle child syndrome. Probably not.
My brother is 11 years older. So, for a long time, he was an only child. My sister is three years older and the only girl. My brother Greg was declared the “navigator” on family vacations and relished the opportunity to monitor the maps and travel directions. He was “Greg the Great” on his birthday cakes from Hough Bakeries every year. Dan was always “so sensitive.” Rob is the youngest and both parents pronounced him “the Best” which, no doubt gave him the ability to be his own person. Each of us had a niche that helped us define ourselves. Each, in our own way, a self-fulfilling prophesy.
Mom was larger than life. She loved the theater. She performed in countless community productions. She directed plays too. She and dad made annual trips to New York City that included Broadway Shows, of which she kept a collection of Playbill programs. She studied and read plays. She completed a Master’s Degree in Dramatic Arts at Case Western Reserve University in her early forties. She was talented. She could turn on the star-power at business functions with important clients, at parties, at social events, at presentations, in large rooms, in small rooms or one-on-one. She had skills she was able to use in juggling six children in a way that made each feel unique and special.
The drama of growing up, as you might imagine, with mom directing the activity, is one that includes countless sub-plots. After all, life isn’t easy – even if you are fortunate enough to live with the Morgan family at 15106 Edgewater Drive. As we reflect on our experiences and memories of mom we each have our own take on what it all means.
The Irish Catholic in mom would have been smiling when we came together in Southlake, Texas to celebrate her life. May the road rise to meet you. May the wind be ever at your back. May the good Lord bless and keep you in the hallow of his hand. It was a competition, as family members took turns sharing stories often not waiting for a lull in the cacophony of overlapping dialogue, tears and laughter. (After all, we naturally want to cast ourselves in the lead role of this production.)
We compete for airtime because we want to perform and entertain. Indeed, we are all talented in projecting lines and expressing ourselves. The stories are all familiar and retold with the usual flaws due to our own brand revisionist history. Mom always said “I will do anything for you kids, as long as you remember.” We will mom. (Even though, with time, we may modify a detail in the script or staging.) We are all grown up now, but when we are together we cannot forget that we were all once just children. The sadness only comes when we realize we must go on without you mom.
If the job of a parent is to raise children to be self-confident and assured we have it in abundance.
Dad is 93, and still has the ability to laugh at things. Mom was that woman behind the great man. Dad served in WWII. He started a business and ran it successfully for the better part of four decades. All the while, mom is ready for each grand entrance at the Cleveland Yachting Club, the family road trip to the Football Hall of Fame in Canton (Ohio) or at a parent-teacher conference. Someone’s got to feed these kids too. She is not much of a cook, but the dinner theater makes up for it. So it’s Hamburger-Helper, Sloppy Joes, Pizza, Tuna Casserole or mom’s famous chicken soup. There’s always enough somehow. Take your time eating and chew your food. If you are good you might just get a chocolate cupcake for desert.
The outpouring of sympathy from friends of the family on social media (notably facebook postings) starts to give a picture of just what a magnificent performance her life was. “Your mom was a great lady.” “Your mom helped my mother deal with the death of my father and gave her courage to go on.” “I always loved your mom.” “I remember having so much fun when I was at your house growing up.”
As I look around the room at my siblings, I see they all have self-confidence. They all have that extra talent it takes to be a successful person. Whatever you do: Photographer, Commercial Real Estate Advisor, Retailer, Tennis Instructor, Corporate Communications Specialist or Company President, you will need that. If you are lucky, someone will catch you early in your development and say. “Oh honey, you always know just what to do. Just make sure you remember to enunciate, pronounce your words and project.” It’s all about me. Thanks mom.
Wes Morgan is director of marketing and communications for Crossland Construction Company, a top building contractor based in Kansas (with offices in Missouri, Arkansas and Texas). Morgan is also founder of Morgan Studio/East, a firm that help companies with planning and execution of effective communications. For More Information e-mail morganwes@aol.com or visit www.morganstudioeast.com
Rev 6-7-2011
