The Story of a Miracle: What a Difference a Year can Make

Well, it has certainly been a long time since I have written a piece on here! What a whirlwind of a year it has been! Who would have thought that any of us would live through the kind of year we have during the pandemic.

I am so thankful that the world is healing now-thankful that people are safer and that people are connecting again like we are meant to do.

W.D. with my sister and me as kids.

What a difference a year can make.

A year ago…

I went to the Vanderbilt Voice Clinic for treatment for a voice condition that speech therapy and physical therapy couldn’t fix.

On the very same day that I got the treatment, my grandfather passed away.

Definitely a photo from the 90s! My sister and I with Jan and W.D.

My voice was restored that day at the exact right time to enable me to sing at his funeral, something I knew would honor him in the best way.

He always told me that my voice was a gift and that I needed to use it. He inspires me still through his example of unwavering strength in bettering the world. My grandfather and I did not agree on everything. To be honest, I believe he thought of me as his “head in the clouds”, “save the world”, millennial granddaughter who went off to Northwestern, destined to marry a “Yankee”! He could not have been more tickled that I married a Southern, gungho Mississippi, in the woods as much as he can manage, hunter type to everyone’s surprise, including mine! (Love you, Matt!)

W.D. with my dad and my husband, Matt.

Whether or not we agreed on everything is irrelevant. My grandfather had a fire that death could not extinguish. So many people tell me of the difference he made in their lives…in Jackson…in the arts…politics…and on and on. The amount of people whose lives he touched amazes me. And it makes me think- I hope someday that people say that about me too.

I hope I am the kind of person who makes others feel valuable, who takes the time to believe in other people’s dreams, and who uses whatever resources I have to help others better the world in the way they are meant to do. That is what he did. He helped change the world by being the best W.D. Mounger that he could be and pouring out his gifts and resources for the world.

He always said to me that the amount of money you make is not important. What matters is that you do what you love and that you honor God while doing it. At the end of the day when our life on earth is done, that’s all that counts. Not what you accomplished. Not how much money is in your bank account. Not what the global, national, or local community thinks of you. What matters is that when you stand before the Lord, he can say, “Well done my good and faithful one. You’re home, finally home.”

W.D. with my sister and me at his 90th birthday celebration.

I have taken a break from writing for a while. It has been a hard year. A good year. A growth year. But a hard year. It has been a hard year for the world. But the sun shines now again. The world is waking up and beholding the resilience of the human spirit…the innovation in collaboration…the wonder of just simply being together.

To recap just a bit…

Last summer, when I could finally speak normally after a year of struggle, it felt like a miracle. Even though the proposed diagnosis the Vanderbilt doctor gave me wasn’t the easiest to process, getting an answer and solution from the Vandy doctor was the most freeing feeling in the world. She told me that my condition could be treated but the treatment would fade every 3 months. Therefore, I would need to have injections in my vocal chord muscles every three months indefinitely, potentially for the rest of my life. This was an overwhelming possibility.

But the most daunting part was that pregnant women can’t have the injections. Given that information, I didn’t know how I would navigate wanting to start a family and teach.

While I started the school year overjoyed to finally be able to talk, the three months that the treatment would supposedly last quickly passed, and I faced a choice. Get the treatment again and further postpone starting a family, or postpone the treatment and risk struggling to talk again. I decided that starting a family was the most important thing to me, and I let my principal, co-workers, and family know the situation that I wasn’t going to get the treatment and didn’t know what would happen to my voice. I theorized that if my vocal symptoms returned, at least the students would only have to deal with it for part of the year, and then I could consider stepping back if teaching with the condition wasn’t doable. Everyone was incredibly supportive and open to solutions to support both myself and my students in the case of the return of my symptoms, but my fear of the unknown as well as a desire to do right by the school and my students felt overwhelming. I didn’t want to relive the year prior of struggling to talk while teaching. I didn’t want that for myself or my students. I didn’t want that, but I didn’t know what to do. And in that unknown, God was there, walking beside me step by step by step.

For a portrait of my thoughts back in this unknown, see this poem called The Things I Wish I Knew.

How it all resolved…

Here I am, now 31 weeks pregnant with a baby girl on the way.

I was told I would possibly need the voice treatment every three months.

I was told this, but I have not received any treatment for my voice since July of 2020.

I have not had any recurring voice problems all year.

Miracles DO happen.

I wouldn’t change a thing about my story. Through the journey, God refined me into a better me. And I can’t wait for the story, His story, to unfold…

So here’s to you Dede (W.D.)…as I continue to use my voice writing, singing, teaching…may I make the kind of difference you made in the lives of others. You sure made a difference in mine.

W.D. Mounger was recruited to play football at West Point in 1944. Once he arrived, the coaches deemed him too small to play, but he did not let this deter him. He found ways to use his gifts to make a difference in the world despite being 5’7”. He certainly proved that size and stature do not determine the impact one can make in the world.

A photo from W.D.’s time in the air force during the Cold War.

A story that captures quintessential W.D. humor.

The pictures in the slideshow feature photos from W.D.’s legacy as a political fundraiser for President Ronald Reagan and other key political leaders in the Mississippi and National Republican Party.

Here Jan, W.D.'s wife and my grandmother, receives an honorary award on behalf of my grandfather for his support of the Mississippi Chorus. The Mississippi Chorus performed this concert as their first concert since the beginning of the pandemic. It was a symbolic reawakening of the arts in the city of Jackson, MS.

This Memorial Day concert honored veterans, a perfect tribute to W.D. who was a graduate of West Point and a member of the air force. From his days as a cadet at West Point to his time as a patron of the arts, W.D.’s legacy stretched far and wide leaving people who remember him fondly as a passionate, humorous, and generous man.

Baby Girl Glover ~ August 2021

We can’t wait to meet you baby girl! You are so loved.

A photo from our babymoon trip at Barnsley Resort in Georgia barnsleyresort.com

“And we know that in all things God works for the good of those who love him, who have been called according to his purpose.” -Romans 8:28

In Him,

Catherine