Remembering My Mother


My mother, about three, and dressed for an outing.

Yesterday marked the anniversary of my maternal grandmother’s birth, and today is the anniversary of my mother’s. And so, I’ll think of Mama today.

The pregnancy was difficult and my grandfather reserved a private railway car to take Booger to a hospital in Oklahoma City where Mama would be born. I’m not sure how long Booger was in the hospital before she delivered. However, the baby was premature and they didn’t have equipment, or the know-how to care for preemies back then.

After mama was born, the nurse asked what the baby should wear. Not sure what Booger answered, a gown, probably. That’s what newborns wore in their first few days back then. However, I believe the nurse suggested something fancier. And, Booger realized that the nurse was asking how she wanted Mama dressed for burial… The tiny baby wasn’t expected to live… but she did. And thrived.

On that day, my grandfather found a silver fifty-cent piece on the street in Oklahoma. He tucked the coin inside a handwritten note and saved it for Mama. I believe it was still in her cedar chest the day she died, almost 93 years later.

I only know my grandfather through the loving memories Mama shared with me. One I especially like is: One day, Mama was probably about three, she decided to walk the few blocks to the bank to see her daddy. And she surprised everyone, not only because she wasn’t supposed to go to the bank alone… but… she didn’t bother to dress for the visit… Yep. Not a stitch!

From the day of her birth, through childhood, and on through her life, my mother was determined, a little adventurous, and willing to fight for what she thought was right.  Uh…  in her own way. And that’s another story, maybe next year.

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