Monday, October 26, 2009
Violet Beatrice Gean Stricklin
October 26, 1917-November 11, 2007
It's my mama's birthday.
The sun revolved and seasons changed ninety times while she was here.
Uneducated, but wise.
Beautiful, work-roughened hands never still.
Her life was taking care of her family, and that she did well, even when the road was hard.
She did massive amounts of laundry on a wringer washer; her clothes lines full every sunny day expect Sunday.
She could coax nutritious vegetables out of tired clay soil, rising with the sun to do battle with weeds.
Her quilts still warm our beds and our hearts.
Known for her incomparable biscuits, she made enough in her lifetime to completely fill a Cracker Barrel.
More familiar with pain than joy, she endured.
She lived to see adult children, grandchildren, great-grandchildren.
We are educated, talented, well-traveled, scattered.
She lives in all of us.
In heaven, we are promised a mansion, blissful rest.
I'll bet my mama's has a clothesline, white robes waving in the breeze.
She watches over the affairs of her household and does not eat the bread of idleness. Her children arise and call her blessed. Proverbs 31: 27,28