My mother was a part of the Greatest Generation – those who held tightly to their spiritual beliefs, weren’t afraid to go to war to defend their country or to stay at home and work for the war effort – people cared about each other in a way that has long since disappeared.

She was only 20 years old the day after Pearl Harbor.  At that age, many of our young people today, have never experienced the ravages of war.  Many have lost their patriotism, given up on their country, are afraid to stand up for truth for fear of offending anyone. There is no longer a fear and awe of the One True God.

My mom would’ve been 95 today.  I wish we could still be celebrating her birthday with her, but  I treasure the precious memories she gave me.

My parents never had much materially.  Dad held two or three jobs to make ends meet and my mom could stay at home and raise the family.  We always had a Christmas tree – even if it was the last one on the lot.  There were handmade ornaments, tons of tinsel and popcorn on a string to finish it off.  Christmas cookies were made from scratch and decorated with great care. My sister and I were always beautifully dressed for the church active Christmas activities.  Mom curled my hair with rags and transformed my naturally straight hair into lovely, golden locks, held tightly in place with a ribbon that matched my dress. At times that hairbrush turned into a weapon.  Though she never raised a hand to spank us, we knew that brush could do a pretty good job of scaring the pants off of us.

My mother was the most beautiful woman I knew.  She worked at having perfect eyebrows until the day of her death.  An eyebrow pencil was a regular resident in her purse and she often said, “don’t let me go to the hospital or die without my eyebrows. She made the best soups with homemade dumplings and noodles – hand shredding vegetables and simmering the brew over the stove.  She rolled dough for the noodles and placed the dough over the back of the kitchen chair and then cut it into yummy pasta. I thought more of her as an older sister.  Our twenty-year age difference allowed that.  She had an amazing faith and she and my dad made sure we had a Christian education, even though it meant more jobs for dad and a reluctant agreement that mom would work to help pay for it.

The most wonderful memory she gave me was to have a patient love. She showed that in her relationship with my dad, my sister and I, but she also was incredibly thoughtful and had a genuine concern for other people.  I guess that’s what endeared her to everyone. Mom taught me what Christmas really meant.  It wasn’t the pretty dresses or presents – it was about sacrifice at the highest level.  That was all I needed to know.  She lived as a follower of Christ and as a servant of Him and others.




As I reach the end of my years, I find I have a lot of good information stored up in this old decrepit mind of mine. If I don't write it all down, it may vanish and no one will have the advantage of my thoughts. This is why this blog exists. I love the Lord, Jesus with all my heart and soul. I know I'm undeserving of all He's done for me, but I also know that His love is beyond my comprehension. I've always wanted to write. I never kept diaries, but tucked my thoughts in my head for future reference. I use them now in creating stories, plays, poetry and my blog. I continue to learn every day. I believe the compilation of our time spent with God will have huge affect on the way we live. I know I'm a sinner and I need a Savior. I have One through Jesus, Christ. My book, "Stages - a memoir," is about the seven stages of life from the perspective of a woman. It addresses all the things girls and women go through in life as they travel it with Jesus, and it is available on
This entry was posted in aging, America, parenting and tagged , , . Bookmark the permalink.

1 Response to MY MOM

  1. Lifetime Chicago says:

    The Greatest Generation…truly loyal to do what the country needed. Beautiful tribute!

    Liked by 1 person

Comments are closed.