Mama had a birthday. When I was a little girl I wouldn't/couldn't imagine a day my Mama would be 90 years old. She was 30 when I was born; 32 when I first remember tho her memory and touch and smell is imprinted in the earliest cells of my being. She hugged me, wiped my nose and bottom and rubbed Vicks on my chest. Mama swatted my leg when I needed it . . . and sometimes when I didn't.
She salved and bandaged me when I was hurt, passed on the love of reading to me and my eight siblings and taught us manners and all to stand straight. Mama taught me courage and responsibility and didn't make me "no" excuses. "Go take care of it." she said -- and I did, all by my 16 year old self, to the town magistrate. Hard lessons learned! Thank you, Mama.
100 years minus 10
4 score and 10
90 years old
A ripe old age!
Happy Birthday, Mama. Love, Nancy
2 comments:
It is sure hard to imagine 90 years! I hope I live that long. And that photo is wonderful with Granny and all of her children. She looks happy.
What a nice homage to your mama!
Post a Comment