Stella Catherine Spala

Stanislawa Zmuda or as we better know her, Stella Spala.

Stella or Mom was born at the beginning of the Great Depression. At one time had to wear two different color shoes enduring hard times of little welcome and little generosity. Witnessed the effects of a difficult war on her four brothers. Yet with optimism, hope, and promise, married Henry Spala and started a family. My Dad was the brains and my Mom was the heart of the operation. They had four boys, Henry, Eugene, Gerald, and me, Kevin. She worked fulltime while raising a family. Believed in working hard, saving money, and sticking together. Worked until 70 years of age and went one 10-year period without missing a day of work. I do not know anyone who worked as hard as Mom for such a sustained period of time. Her work ethic was second to none.

Mom saw three of her four boys marry into long-lasting relationships with three fine women and saw the birth and growth of three grand-daughters into young adults. She was very proud of her entire family.

Like with most families, we had success, failure, calm, anxiety, happiness, sadness, work, play, and love – to name only a few descriptive words. I would not label my Mom as a touchy, feely sort. Mom was about tough love. And, I mean tough! She had no hesitation in pushing her boys out of their comfort zones for their own betterment. Many times when I was young, I did not understand the correlation between her intentions and purpose. And, I was likely not to question or knew better not to question. I took my marching orders on faith and fulfilled the mission. With mounting favorable outcomes, I learned to trust and this trust grew mutually. Not to say that Mom and Dad were always right or we always agreed. There were plenty of less than favorable outcomes and times of disagreement. But, if any of us really needed something, Mom did not hesitate to provide and it was clearly obvious that her intentions and purpose were no less than sincere and genuine. She and Dad wholeheartedly wanted to see their progeny be fully self-sufficient and do better than them. For two who were born in a time when the main purpose of having many children was to have more hands for cheap labor in support of the family, they provided the basis of a deep trust that I, as well as my brothers, shared with my Mom and Dad.

With age, I was better able to understand that correlation between intention and purpose. The trust between us further strengthened. And, I understood my Mom and Dad better as an adult then when as a child. In fact, in many ways, my Mom served as my beacon or reference point in both light of day and darkness of night for values and conscience during my adult years. She never hesitated to speak with all candor. I do not expect this beacon to dim. She will always be that voice in the back of my head. She will always burn bright in mind and spirit.

My brothers and I all had our own unique relationship with our Mom. I am sure we each like to think that ours was special in some sort of way. I would not argue but only share with you how my relationship with my Mom was special.

Mom had me relatively late in life. She was nearly 39 years of age when I was born. My brothers were respectively 14 years and 8 years older than me. I was the “baby” of the family. In fact, I was the youngest of all first cousins on both sides of the family. Growing up, none of my friends had parents as old as my parents. I was clearly positioned in bringing up the rear my entire life. In youth, I sometimes thought “what a drag”! But, I have grown accustom to this position and now even relish it.

When I was young and was with my parents in public, I have to admit that I was sometimes ashamed or embarrassed of them. They were very traditional and did not fit the popular southern California mold. They were definitely not always in tune with popular culture. However, as I grew older, their standing within popular culture did not matter a bit with me. I learned to engage with Mom and Dad anywhere and everywhere – especially Mom because she would liked to get out of the house and do stuff.

In the last 10 years, I have noticed that when with my Mom in public, people would react to us differently than if we were by ourselves. Because I was considerably younger than her, I think that sometimes people would confuse me as her grandson as opposed to her son. In any case, here was a middle-aged man walking alongside an elderly woman with white hair and talking in casual manner about anything and everything. We would capture the attention of many. Men would open doors for us. Children were respectful. Women would stare and dote. When I was in the presence of my Mom in public, it was clearly obvious that the behavior of those with whom we were interacting was affected. Sometimes to the point of a chuckle and laugh afterwards. My Mom would take note and say things like I think “we flustered them” or I think that “they did not know what to make of us”. These times were a bit surreal for me as if I just encountered a moment of absolute truth. A moment to bare all soul. And, I did enjoy this. I valued this. Having your 80 something year old Mom alongside you can be a mortal man’s way to part seas.

So, Mom! I stand before you one last time and bare my soul for you in the eyes of the Lord knowing that you are doing the same for me. I and the family love you!

- Kevin Spala