This is a picture of my mother in the early 1940s. She is holding my older sister. We just returned Thursday from her funeral. She died at 97 years of age.
One thing I remember most about her was her faith. She loved to pray and when we went on vacation, she always made sure we found a suitable church to go to. I didn't appreciate it then, but I do now. Also when I went off to college, she sent a subscription to Guideposts magazine to help keep my faith alive. She will never know how much that little magazine changed my life. It put such desire in me for more of the Lord.
My mother used to make us little doll dresses on her Singer Sewing machine. The arm holes were so tiny it was difficult to see how she did it. She added trim and lace. I love to receive them.
We often went to flower gardens in my hometown of Mansfield, Ohio. There we viewed rows and rows of gorgeous flowers, one after another. Little girls get thirsty. Not moms, I guess. She did this at the Rose Garden in Columbus, Ohio, too. She must have gotten so caught up in her favorite thing that she had no physical needs. I know years later, I felt that way about worship.
My dad was the master gardener at our house, winning every award in the books. But my mom was great with violets. She could make a new plant with just a leaf and some roots. She would pinch off old buds and cause new ones to grow. I did not inherit a green thumb from either one.
My son Joseph agrees with me that Mom made one of the best homemade macaroni and cheese dishes of all time. Her Cole slaw and frozen farm corn were tops, too.
My mother had problems with dementia. She did seem to remember me the last time I visited in January. Things were hard for her. I will miss her. I know she is free now and looking on the One she loves. This is my tribute to someone wonderful, my mother.
(In the upper right Christmas picture, Mom has her hand on my little pony tailed head. Notice her cute little half-apron and corsage.)