Mom Taught Me How To Become The Person I am Today

                                         Growing up as the only child, my mom and
                                          I shared a special relationship of 67 years.

                                          This is not uncommon since women tend
                                    to outlive men, and the longest relationship a
                                    woman is likely to have is with her mother. "One
                                    of every three women who celebrate a 60th
                                     birthday will have a mother who is still alive,"
                                     according to Vern Bengston, gerontologist at the
                                     University of Southern California.

                                           My mom taught me many valuable life
                                       lessons, and made me the person I became. I
                                       learned to work by her side and to give a full day's
                                       work, even if the wages were unfair. I learned
                                       responsibility and the work ethic. Through church
                                       attendance, I learned about God and self-
                                       discipline, even if the sermons were boring (as
                                       they sometimes were). By helping with the
                                       cultivation of the vegetable garden and canning in
                                       the fall, I learned about nature and the future,
                                       which depended on the harvest. I also learned to
                                       appreciate the order of the universe by getting up
                                       to watch the sunrise.

                                             The best gifts my mom gave to me were
                                       unconditional love and daring to stand her ground
                                       and say "no" when my pleas and whines were not
                                       in my best interest. I did not know it at the time.

                                            One of my best memories is my 76 year-
                                       old mother tenderly caring for her 95-year-old
                                       mother. It is an image that will always remain in
                                       my memory. It was a bittersweet moment. It
                                       reminded me of the distance the two had traveled
                                       together and how near their their journey's end.
                                       My mother was my role model on how to
                                       care for one's mother. And both my mother and
                                       grandmother were role models for me on how to
                                       live independently with dignity and purpose in
                                       widowhood.

                                       My relationship with my mom was strong,
                                     enduring, and adaptable. Over the years, it
                                     changed from adult-and-child, to adult-to-adult,
                                     and occasionally reversed roles as she aged. But
                                     mutual love and respect were the glue that held it
                                     together.


                                       

I Love Autumn

     I love autumn. I love autumn in the springtime, summer, and winter. I
 love autumn all year long. Not because the leaves begin to fall which
reminds me that winter is coming but because it is my glorious birth month.

     It was a perfect September day in the middle of the Depression
when my parents welcomed their newborn baby daughter into
the world. It was the first day of school in the small rural community in
Tamo, in southeast Arkansas, and students were being welcomed back
to school. Junius Marion Futrell was the governor of Arkansas. Franklin
Delano Roosevelt was the President of the United States.

     My father, Willis, all of twenty-one was nervously expectant as
he waited on the front porch of his small country home. Mama
Chester, my maternal grandmother, was there to give comfort to Mary
and assist the midwife. She would not have missed welcoming her first
grandchild into the world for all the gold in Fort Knox.

     A lot of people in the cities were out of work. The stock market
crash had thrown the country into a depression. But Willis and Mary
were tenant farmers. They continued to farm, grow their own food and
were never hungry.

     To get the country out of the depression, FDR, as the president
 was called, started a lot of alphabet programs like the WPA( Works
Progress Administration) and CCC, (Conservation Civilian Corp.),
under the New Deal to get people back to work again. Social Security
was born and shares my birth year.

     Later when my mother would point out to me my birthplace from
Highway 65 South, near a thicket of trees, I was in awe. "You kept me
alive!" I would say. Of course it was not just my young parents. It was
Cuz who came to feed me when I would not eat; it was Uncle Jerry,
my father's brother, who bought my first store bought diapers; and
Mama Chester, who hand made me all those pretty clothes.

     Autumn brings back memories of school days at St. Peter's
Catholic School in Pine Bluff. The beginning of school was full of
excitement and welcoming back by the nuns and Father Kempinski.
the principal. I would arrive the first day in my new saddle oxfords,
bobby socks, and the latest sweater set and skirt.

     The first social event of the school season was my birthday
party. Kids came from miles around. My sister, Jettie and I knew every
kid from Main Street to Ohio. My mother baked the cakes. Sometimes
Aunt Margaret, my mother's sister, would come up to Pine Bluff from
her country home in Grady to assist with the preparation. The ice
cream was made in the hand cranked freezer; it was always vanilla.
Today, my favorite ice cream remains vanilla.

     I love autumn because the leaves dazzle in a parade of colors:
red, orange, rust. I look out into the woods in my back yard and see
the trees on the creek next to my neighbor. I marvel at the breathtaking
sight. Only God can make those colors, I say.

     I love autumn. What a relief from the oppressive Ohio summer
heat. The temperature cools down. The sky is azure blue. It's a time
for Halloween and trick-or-treat, with little ones dressed in their
colorful and sometimes, scary costumes. It's a time for Thanksgiving
turkey and all the trimming and giving thanks, for family, friends, and
so many blessings.

     During the snowy cabin fever days of winter, I day dream about
autumn. It is indeed a long, long way from December to September. But
autumn will  surely come again.