Happy Birthday, Mom...

10/03/2008

Did I ever write anything about my mom?  I am sure I did but am too lazy to go back and look.  Today would have been her 102nd birthday.  In the photograph below, taken about 1920 when she was just fourteen, she is standing at the far right as you look at the picture.

My mom was a special woman.  She was just about the most devout Christian I have ever met.  Her life was all about the Church, the Bible, and her precious Jesus.

She suffered with dementia the last fifteen or so years of her life.  The last years were a horrible nightmare for her.  She lived in a state of confusion and was easily addled.

My last mental picture of her was her sitting on the sofa in her condo’s living room with her face buried in her hands repeating over and over, “What are we going to do?  What are we going to do?”

That woman was not the vibrant, funny, beautiful woman who raised five kids.  She wrote poetry, acted in church plays, had a smile on her face most of the time, and wasn’t afraid of anyone.  She loved to watch soap operas on TV, and I can visualize her now sitting down to watch one with half a cheddar cheese sandwich and a cup of coffee for her lunch.  Her favorite meal out was a Filet-o-Fish sandwich at McDonald’s, and a cup on coffee.  I don’t think I ever saw her drink a Coke.

There was never a doubt she loved my dad.  They lived for one another, and while I don’t recall her calling me by name for many years before she passed away, she always knew who Russell was. 

I went to church with them once, probably a couple of years before they both passed away in 1997, and was struck by how they held hands throughout the service, both in their 90s and married nearly 68 years.  Their love for one another and their children was unconditional, and everyone knew it.

In death they lay together side by side.  I bet they still hold hands.

Happy Birthday, Mother.

And that is all I have to say about that…