Mom was born on this date in 1918, the fourth child of twelve, in rural West Virginia. She started working at the age of 12, cleaning house for a neighbor. Lived through a depression, and a rough first marriage in which she had two children, a son and a daughter, sixteen months apart.
In October of 1942, she boarded a bus for the north to work in an ammunition plant. While living in Pennsylvania, she met her second husband; they married in August of 1944 and had one daughter the next year. She worked many different jobs, a clerk in a drug store, a waitress in a restaurant, and helped to milk the family's dairy herd. Around 1953, she went to work for the Acme Markets, and, from there she retired in 1978.
She retired only because she couldn't remember how to make proper change anymore. Or maybe she wasn't quite sure what her customer's name was. She wished someone a Happy Easter, but it was the day before Christmas.
It wasn't long before she stopped cooking, stopped eating, then, the pacing started. All day, she paced the house. Finally her husband retired to take care of her. He cooked the meals and fed her, sometimes forcibly. She could no longer dress herself, so he dressed her. She didn't know when she had to go to the bathroom, so she was put in diapers. She couldn't hold a normal conversation, so she just stopped talking.
She would look at you, and not know who you were, couldn't remember your name. But she was the one who gave you that name.....gave you life.
On a Saturday in May of 1998, she was rushed to the hospital with pneumonia. On Monday, the doctors were talking nursing home, by Tuesday, hospice. She came back to her home. On Friday, early in the morning, she went home to be our LORD, very peacefully, with her devoted husband and two daughters at her bedside. And, it was over, twenty-two years of caring for a woman who would've done as much or more for you, a woman who was a victim of Alzheimer's, a nasty, incurable, agonizing, hateful disease that affects the whole family. Be sure to enjoy your love ones while they can still enjoy life.
Miss ya, mom.