I couldn’t let April 10^th pass by without giving a shout-up to my mom. You see, she’s having her 100^th birthday party today in Heaven!

The great example she set for me and all my precious memories of her help me thrive! 

She spent her nearly 95 years on this earth living within a rather small geographical radius. Here she is in front of the house where she was born back in 1918.

Little Emmabelle arrived in the midst of the great flu pandemic which was the first time H1N1 attempted to wipe out the human race. It infected 500 million people and killed somewhere between 50 million and 100 million, or 5-10% of the world’s population. It didn’t, however, get Emmabelle.

In the heart of the Mid-west, her parents made a living as best they could in a tiny town along the railroad tracks where her daddy, Judge (and we have already established that he wasn’t one), operated a business that served as general store, barbershop and post office. I would imagine that no one in the town held any secrets he didn’t hear about!  Her mother, Nettie, stepped into the role of post-mistress in later years. Judge and Nettie raised their brood of six in a tiny house so close to the railroad tracks that I’m sure its timbers rattled with each passing train.

The third-born in her family, Mom had an older brother, Gerald. They called him Spiege – for a reason. You can get acquainted with Spiege here. Her older sister, Martha, became a great playmate when Emmabelle was home. While Martha could be termed a “ball ‘o fire”, Emmabelle was shy and reserved. Here they are on an outing together, having a little fun and sporting their 1920’s bobbed haircuts.  Emmabelle is the blonde on the right.

Mom was often not at home, for her grandma Martha and step-grandpa “Uncle John”, who lived about ten miles away, had rheumatism. Even as a preschooler, little Emmabelle rode the train alone to stay with them for extended periods of time and help out. She loved them very much and though she missed being with her siblings, she enjoyed her time with them and had a real bond with her grandparents.  I’m told that she did, however, pretend to have the measles once in order to go home.

Once in a while, one of the younger siblings got to take a turn helping out Grandma and Uncle John and you might want to read about a particular one of those visits here if you’re in need of a good old-fashioned giggle today.

Emmabelle’s younger siblings included another brother, Tim (whose name was neither Tim nor Timothy) and two baby sisters, Gladys Pearl (of the above-mentioned story) and Jean.  They aren’t without their own stories and those are yet to come.

Mom walked to school every day, along with the rest of her siblings, to attend the little schoolhouse that had been expanded from one room to two. She graduated from 8^th Grade there. Here’s her graduating class. Emmabelle is the blonde on the back row.

I remember growing up thinking that my mom must not have gotten much of an education. Take a look at this 8^th Grade Final Exam from 1931. If Mom’s test was anything like this one, I tend to think I was selling her short. Think of all the fourteen-year-olds you know.  I’d hate to have to take it myself, but I’d love to see the results if this test were given to high school seniors (or, come to think of it – college seniors) today. I’d also like to be in the room to observe their faces and hear their groans about three minutes after they’d been handed this test.

Mom – you were one smart cookie!

After graduating, Mom helped out at home, did some babysitting and sometimes stayed with her newly-married sister, Martha.

In September of 1940, my parents met at a meeting amongst area churches. They married that December and moved into a log cabin near his parents with no water or electricity. They started out by having a couple of girls and making a move, then settled down on a farm and had a boy and three more girls. Then, after nearly a decade, Mom received what must have been quite a surprise – me!

All I have room to say here is that life for Mom was difficult in more ways than one. Though she never denied her troubles, she did not complain. She worked harder than anybody ever ought to have to work. She made every effort to spread sunshine in order to dispel the gloom around her. She loved her children and did her best to bless them in small ways that she hoped would make up for the negativity in their lives.

Mom could make something out of absolutely nothing. In fact, she was forced to do just that. I never knew when I came home from school what she might have whipped up during the day. It might be curtains. It might be some creative storage concept. It might be something like this.

Well, you can figure out what that is by clicking here.

One year, Mom fell in love with making Christmas ornaments out of felt. This turned out not to be a passing fancy. Felt became her medium and she created felt masterpieces, large and small, for the rest of her life, including nativity scenes and wedding banners. If she got bored, she’d copy patterns off whatever she could find around the house, turning them into refrigerator magnets or anything else she could think of. Her urge to put a smile on your face led her to create things that were outside the norm. I’ll never forget coming home from school one afternoon to find the exact likeness of Orville Redenbacher pinned to the kitchen door curtain! He hung there, in good company, along with the Jolly Green Giant and the Pillsbury Doughboy.

I’m pretty much convinced that Mom is in charge of all the Heavenly Christmas decorations now and that every room in her mansion is lavender.

Emmabelle had a quiet wit. Her sense of humor never ceased to get me tickled. Though she would never put herself forward to tell a story, she would, if you asked, share the treasure she held within. Nothing made me happier than to watch and listen as she and her sisters, during their rare visits, shared their memories and giggled themselves silly.  Here they are again, Emmabelle and Martha, the last two surviving siblings, reuniting in 2007 after having not seen each other in years.

In 1969, Mom decided to return to keeping a diary and I am so glad she did. It’s a family history treasure and at times, it’s simply just a hoot!

Mom never liked having her picture taken, but I just love this one from the last birthday party we had for her.  Here she is, worn out from partying, with Smuffy.  It was a great day.  

All mom’s siblings, with the exception of Martha, passed on years before she did. When in her 90’s, Mom and Martha often talked, pondering why they were still around. They came to a mutual agreement that if the Good Lord was taking that much time to build their mansions in Heaven, they must be in for something pretty palatial.

My mom made her last trip to the hospital in December of 2012. After her heart-to-heart talks with her beloved doctor and Jesus, we both knew she was ready to go Home. As we sat dangling our legs over the side of her hospital bed, she spoke of many things she’d never told me before. I knew Mom was ready to go.

As she talked, it became evident that one thing in particular gave her satisfaction when she thought about all the years she’d lived. “I’ve got seven good kids,” she said. I reassured her that she could count on every one of us to join her someday.

Mom left us on January 10, 2013, in her own quiet way, under her own terms and in her own home, just the way she wanted it.

So, Happy 100^th, Mom! You said you never understood why we all claimed to have the best mother in the world. We, your seven kids – we understand!

I’d love to hear your comments. On your desktop computer, you’ll need to scroll back up to the top of this post. On various devices, you need to scroll to the bottom of the post.

If you still have your mom, love on her today. Pry some stories out of her. Ask the questions you know you’ll be sorry if you never asked. She’ll be gone before you’re ready for her leave you. 

Mother’s Day will be here before you know it, and if my mom’s story will touch someone in your life, please share!