Violet Beatrice Gean Stricklin
October 26, 1917-November 11, 2007
It's my mama's birthday.
The Earth raced around the Sun and the seasons changed ninety times while she was here.
She was uneducated, but wise.
Beautiful, work-roughened hands that were 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.
Beadie Haynes, Marie Thompson, Mama, Geneva Gean
In heaven, we are promised a mansion, blissful rest.
I'll bet my mama's has a clothesline, white robes waving in the breeze.
Could be she's sitting on the porch, waiting for her children to get home.
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