Every year someone asks me "What are your plans for New Year's Eve?" and every year I give the same answer. "It's my mother's birthday."
Yep, on December 31, 1933, my mother was born, in Marietta, Georgia. It's a lovely little town. The Hastys and Butlers had lived around there for at least a hundred years.
I am very blessed to have a beautiful, intelligent lady as my mother, and I've blogged about her often. Heck, she has her own blog. I thought it would be fun, though, to relate some interesting facts about my mother, for your enjoyment:
My mother went to a different school every year until she was about 11 and the family moved to Atlanta after World War II.My grandfather was always searching for a better job.
When my grandparents were young, a psychic told them they'd have a daughter who would die in childbirth. So every time Mother got pregnant they were not pleased. She did nearly die of a kidney infection when my brother was born in 1959.
My mother sang with the USO during the Korean War. Although she sang professionally, at weddings and in groups, she said the USO was the most difficult thing she ever did, singing in hospitals filled with wounded soldiers. She had to work hard not to cry.
When my mother took the national teacher's exam, she made the highest score ever made in the state of Georgia up to that time.
My mother was seriously dating two different guys in the summer of 1956, one of them being my father. She only married him because he gave her an engagement ring before the other guy did.
My mother can play the piano by ear. She can play any tune someone can hum for her.
When my mother got married she could cook only two things: tuna salad and fudge. The first day they were married and back from their honeymoon, dad said that he wanted eggs, bacon, grits and toast for breakfast the next day. Mother got up very early and set about trying to learn how to cook all that. Took a while. She would throw the failures out the back door of the tiny apartment. The neighborhood dogs and cats learned to sit there and wait patiently, as eggs and toast would invariably come sailing out the door. [Thanks to my aunts Diddy, Jane, Myrt, and Evalyn for teaching Mom to cook!]
When my mother was pregnant with me, she had to go on total bedrest, the doctor told her. While she was resting, she had a lively 2 year old boy to manage. Her solution was to teach him to read.My brother has been reading voraciously ever since.
When I was born I was very tiny, 5 lbs., 8 oz., and after being in the incubator a couple of weeks I was losing weight, and "failing to thrive." Mother refused to leave the hospital without me. Finally, against doctor's orders, she just picked me up and left. She knew if she could get me home and feed me and love me, I would be fine. She was right of course.[Below, Mom and me after I got fattened up.]
My mother does beautiful hand bead work. A number of folks amongst our friends and family have some of her beautiful beaded sweaters. I am convinced it's her Cherokee ancestors' influence that makes her so good at beading.
My mother is a great listener. Many friends of mine have found solace and good advice in confiding to Elva, because she truly and deeply listens, and advises from the heart. She has always been available to listen to me and my troubles, and that's one HUGE blessing in my life.
// So that's a dozen things that make my beautiful mother a unique and amazing person. I am so glad she is still here with me, loving me and helping me every day.
HAPPY BIRTHDAY MOM!