My mother was a share cropper's daughter and the love of my father's life. When he first saw her, she was sitting in the choir
in West Side Baptist Church. My father's cousin and mother's cousin had decided that they would like each other. When she came
down the aisle of the church and they were introduced, she extended her hand. Mother had long fingers that were strong and there
was something about her hands.
The roar of a light plane is heard across the cotton field. It is in the forties and a young captain is heading for a farm
house. He drops a handkerchief and the young lady picks it up. Her dad did not want her to go with the young captain. He was
overly protective of his girls. He had to be for they were beautiful. He knew men, for he was a dog himself. He was afraid
they were to much like him but they weren't. The daughter's had a signal. If there were rocks in the mail box you could come
on up for the coast was clear. Elaine would cover for her older sister and the two sisters had many adventures. My father felt
their dad knew but this just created a little excitement for them. My father said he had to give him credit for the old man
was given a reputation for being mean. My mother's father let my mother do whatever she wanted to. He knew that she had the
ability to make a living and if she left she might never show up again. My mother wore the sign and flag of the rattlesnake.
Don't tread on me. She was sweet and gentle but don't tread on her.
My mother moved to Natchez, Mississippi and stayed with her cousin. They were all kin to a famous French cousin who was an
actor during the silent film era. They were cousins but never made contact with him. The family she was living with were clean
honest church goers. They held their heads high. My father's family were also share croppers in Texas during the depression.
They were able to share stories of hard times together when they first met. It was a time in the country for character building.
My father would say that there were some bad and good characters. This was a time of tough living. My mother was proud she
could pick two hundred pounds of cotton a day. Her older brothers would have to get the sacks of cotton out of the field
because the sacks were too heavy for her to carry. They said her hands would bleed due to the amount of cotton she could pick.
When picking cotton you would pull the fiber from the cotton burr. Pulling bolls mean you cup your fingers behind the cotton
burr and pull the whole thing out. The burrs have pointed tips that tick until you develop a callous there a half inch or so.
I guess this explains the strength of the hands that took hold of my father's hand that day he met her.
Years later a photographer told my mother that if she had been found in her earlier years, they would have put her on the front
of every magazine. She had no bad camera angles that could not be photographed. Just shoot, for mother's whole make up was
perfection. My mother was always the center of attraction. She was a good listener. This was a real gift. She was a gifted
seamstress. If there was a class on sewing you could find her there. In the Caribbean, mother taught sewing classes to the
preacher's wives and the students that wanted to learn. One of the preacher's wives said that mother bought a sewing machine
and thought that was it. The missionary in charge had needed a teacher and found that it was my mother. The missionary had
been praying for three years that God would send her a teacher. Well God sent my mother and she was the best. Her teaching is
now spread all over the Caribbean. Mother will never be forgotten. My father always felt like God let him tag along with her.
Mother had many other talents she was blessed with. Mother could sing, cook, raised three children and helped with the grandchildren.
She loved to watch football and her favorite team was definitely the Saints. She was a fan even if they didn't win a game.
Mother loved basketball and played on the High School team. She would enjoy watching football, basketball, the Olympics and
loved her sport of bowling. My mother and father traveled the United States, Canada, India, and the Caribbean together.
After forty-eight years of marriage, my father turned my mother's hand loose, kissed her on the forehead and walked into the
darkness of the rest of his life. The lights of this world went out. It was past midnight as he walked toward the parking garage
alone. My mother went to be with Jesus that night.
I'm my father's oldest daughter and I watch him nearly everyday grieve. The pain is almost too much to handle. I don't know
how to help him. My father keeps mother alive for the rest of us by not letting us take too many things from her room. I could
relate to that because I didn't want her to be gone either.Dad decides that the pain is too much so he takes a trip to Germany to
be with my sister. Dad, Mother and Lori all did a lot of traveling together when she was young. She was the youngest of their
three children. My brother and sister were both in Colorado a few years after mother went to be with Jesus. Dad again will
have to return to an empty house with memories but to him they are not so sweet anymore. When he returns home Mr.C and Mrs.C,
have work for him to do on a regular basis. They have a business and Dad would do work for them from time to time. They love
Dad and want to keep him busy to keep him away from the loneliness of an empty house. They are good people and love him dearly.
Dad is on the computer a lot writing his novels and a lot of poems about mother and sharing his grief that he feels for her
being gone. The poems are beautiful beyond anything that you can imagine and yet so sad. They are about his grieving heart
trying to find some way to deal with all of this. She was his life and had been for 48 years. She was our life also. This
entire family was circled around Mother and with her gone we were all lost. Dad told me that his days were numbered and for
me not to grieve for him too long. "I'm tired and want to be with your mother. So please know that I'll be happy when I see
Jesus and see her smiling face" dad said. Of course I was upset and told him that I did not to hear him talk this way. "You'll
e around for a long, long time. You're still young and we've got at least twenty more years to spend together",I told him. Then
dad replied with, "believe me daughter that I'm telling you that my days are short and when I leave you I hope that you won't be
too sad. There will be an angel that will take me by the hand and then I will walk out of this body to find this old man just
lying on the floor". Oh yes, he did as he said he would. Who took him by the hand? I know that dad loved Jesus so very much.
Dad had said it would be nice to see some supernatural manifestation but he was satisfied that the Lord had healed my mother
from a muscle disease before and other miracles. Dad lived by faith not by sight. He believed that Jesus was who He said He
was and that was enough for my dad. The last words I heard my dad say were, "it is finished, I've done all that I can do. It
is finished." Dad had been working on a novel and had finally finished it. He continued to tell me over and over that it was
finished. He told me I could call him later for he would be at home. Later that night we found him at home but it was only the
old man's body lying on the floor as he had told me two weeks before. Dad finally got his supernatural manifestation that
night and got to take the hand of Jesus and be reunited with the lady he had loved for forty-eight years. That lady was
"Elaine My Love."
I have collected all the poems to have put in a book along with drawings and pictures from the 1940's till they went to be
with Jesus. I hope one day to be able to share them with public of their journey of Christian love.
Thanks for reading my stories and blogs.