Posted: May 1, 08 7:36pm

My family and me arrived at the ole farm and turned into the drive. Other siblings and friends were there and parking was limited. When we opened the car doors, ole Red, the hound and Mac the beagle with their offspring's greeted by licking our legs and hands. As our feet touched the ground, little chickens were inspecting their space. We went onto the side porch and on inside. Dot and Lois welcomed us as we entered. But, the mood was doleful despite the joy of greeting each other. Mother had been sick for two years. We walked into the next room and told stories of our upbringing hoping to dispell the melancholy.

We talked of times that mother sang to us songs of the church. She loved "In the Sweet By and By we shall meet on that beautiful shore." and taught us children songs and poems and Nursery Rhymes. Humpty Dumpty and Mary Had a Little Lamb were favorites. She taught me a poem before I went to school and told me not to tell my teacher. When the teacher asked my name, I said, "I know a poem." at six years old. My brother, Charles said you had better not, I'll tell mama. The teacher asked him to take his seat and asked me to recite the poem.

"There was a monkey sitting on the rail

picking his teeth with the end of his tail

mulberry leaves and calico sleeves

All the school teachers are hard to please."

She loved it. Charles told, and Mother asked what she said. Then Mother smiled pleasingly.

She would read the Bible to us at night if Dad came in late from work, Psa. 23 "The Lord is my Shepherd." and Psa. 142 "The Lord is my Refuge." Dad usually read the devotion.

On rainy days she reminisced of her childhood as we sat at her knees and listened so eagerly.Scenes of mountain adventures of neighbors incountering wolves as they walked home. Also, how people went from house serenading singing jolly gleeful songs and the crowd grew from each home visited.

Mother taught us hygiene and how to keep our rooms clean. She also helped us with our homework.

When our cousins came over, we would go down to the river. Dad and the uncle Henry would fish. Mother and aunt Jossie would cook fish with the trimmings over a campfire on the river bank. We nine children played on the shoals with our cousins trying to walk on slick rocks successfully. The eyes in the back of mother's head sensed each nosedive before the scream.

On Easter Sunday, lovely outfits adorned us that she had made. All holidays were special because she made a delicious spread. Family and friends came form miles to eat and enjoy these occasions. We had plenty of food because we grew most of it on the farm. Sugar, bananas, tea and coffee were all the groceries we had to buy. Dad made syrup in the syrup mill and mother canned, froze, preserved and pickled enough for us, and to share with others. When we married we knew how to survive.

Her second job, a spinner in the textile plant. Her primary job, care for her family, working on the farm and pleasing my dad. She denied time for herself.

My mother, a great child of God and lived her faith. She studied her Bible and taught us the love God’s Word. She always prepared us for church and kept the evangelist during Revival time. Pastors and different ones ate at our house on Sundays. She managed the home well, while giving support to dad at church. She also helped take care of the grandparents as long as they lived.

We grew up on the farm in the Fork Township but when the lake backed up, my husband and me had our own home. My parents relocated to another farm.

Although, this place was not home to me, my family made me love to go there. The rooms were dark and filled with furniture that I grew up with. I always had mixed feelings when I went there. I loved my family but the environment's completely foriegn to me. I spoke to my dad. A lively and talkative man always but today he looked spent. His face showed pleasure as his children walked in. I walked over to the bed and spoke to my mother. Unable to talk, she just grunted and squeezed my hand and squeezed tight when I asked if she knew me.

I talked about what I had been doing all week. I felt that the outside world might help her to revive. It made little difference but she still held my hand tight. I felt something within me slipping away. My emotions were taking hold of me with a thought that I could not accept and I knew was evident. It was afternoon about 3:30 and I lived twenty miles away. Floods of tears rolled down my face and words were getting less and less. Things to talk about were being blocked. I did not want her to know that I was the least bit jaded. I laid my other hand on her face and told her that I loved her. She tried to tell me that she loved me too. Quietly, I stood there propped on the hospital bed with tears dripping like a slow rain. Dad just cleared his throat.

In my despair, I felt a still hush, a voice said to me. “Why don’t you release her and let her go”?

Always before, when I left I said, “Mama I’ll be back, don’t go anywhere.”

And those words were brought to my mind. I replied, “If I’m keeping her here and she is supposed to go, I’ll let her go.”

I had to go in the other room and get rid of my emotions. Then, when I started to leave, I held her hand and she held mine tight and I told her again that I loved her and had to go. She grunted. The next morning as I slept, June 13,1989, she slipped away at 1am. At 2 am, I was awakened by a phone call. My sister said,

“Ma’s dead.”

My first thoughts were----- I should not have let her go. Then guilt seized upon me.

.

They prepared her so beautifully. She had a lovely hairdo and a gorgeous mauve lace gown which looked good with her red hair.I wish she could have seen herself lying there.

Now, she is at rest from a life of hard work and health problems that took her away and with her little daughter that died in infancy.

Her reward is a new life with our Lord and Savior in Heaven for Eternity.

Leona Phillips