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My
mother was born in the small town of Boston, Texas. From
the time she was very small, she could be found
following my grandfather down a row of cotton, helping
him with the picking. She only made it as far as the
third grade in school because her presence was required
at home to help with the chores. She met my dad when she
was 17, and married him at 18. I was born a year later.
Over
the next twenty years, she bore seven more children;
five more girls and two boys. For most of her life, she
was a single mother, raising us on the small salary she
made as a car hop at the Cutlet House, a local drive-in,
and then later, as a waitress at the restaurant at the
Continental Bus station. She somehow managed to keep us
all fed and clothed.
When
she was in her early 60's, she was walking across the
room one day, and the bone in her right leg snapped. She
was taken to the hospital, and after the tests were done
and the x-rays taken, the doctors came back with the bad
news. It was bone cancer.
For
five years, she fought the disease, with visits to the
hospital a frequent occurrence. Eventually, she was
forced to allow herself to be placed in a nursing home
because she was not able to walk on her own.
At
the beginning of May in 1998, my sister Gloria called to
tell me that Mom had been taken to the hospital in Dallas,
and the prognosis was not good. She had a massive
infection in her leg that the doctors could do nothing
for, and that it was only a matter of time. I was
absolutely stunned... I had always felt that there was
always something that doctors could do, and to hear that
they gave us no hope for her recovery literally took my
breath away. All I could do for the next twenty-four
hours was cry; I had no way to get home to be with her.
On
May 3rd, my sister, Peggy called to tell me that Mom had
just drifted away that morning; she was in no pain,
Peggy said, and between one breath and the next, she was
gone.
She
was only sixty-eight years old; she had not even been
given her full three score and ten. She left behind
eight grieving children, fifteen grandchildren and and
eighteen great-grandchildren who all love and miss her
with all their hearts.
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I
remember thee in this solemn hour, my dear
mother. I remember the days when thou didst
dwell on earth and thy tender love watched over
me like a guardian angel. Thou art gone from me,
but the bond which unites our souls can never be
severed; thine image lives within my heart. May
the merciful Father reward thee for the
faithfulness and kindness thou has ever shown
me; may He lift up the light of His countenance
upon thee and grant thee eternal peace. |
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The
graphics on this page were made exclusively for it, and are the property
of Penney's Place. Please do not take them. The
music is 'Rise Again' sequenced here by Dallas
Holm. It was my mother's favorite song, one she had first heard sung
by Pastor Harold 'Kenny' Feldman of the Sunlight Mission Church in Santa
Monica, California. |
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