My Mother

       This is one of just a few photos I have of my mother, Ruth Smith Wilson (made in 1960 at age 45). She  died suddenly from a blood clot at age 48 on Sunday afternoon, April 28, 1963 - the same month that two of her grandchildren (Bradley and Cyndi) were born. She wrote me a letter the week before telling us all about grandchildren #5 and #6. I got the letter after returning home to Bremen, GA the next week. I had great difficulty opening the letter and reading it. (I still have that letter.)
      We were living Bremen, GA when she died and Jim worked for Cluett Peabody who made Arrow shirts. He was on a trip to Washington, DC and New York with the Jaycee's from GA. We had to locate him and my brother in law Al whom Jim had visited in Washington, DC, called Grand Central Station downtown DC where they had dropped Jim off to catch the train and they got a message to him just before they boarded the train to NY. Can you imagine your name being called over the loud speaker in the big train station? He said he knew something was wrong.

     Our minister and his wife drove to the Atlanta airport to pick him up late at night and the next day we drove to Elba. I remember the shock and the sad trip. Our children were young: 5,7, and 8. Other sisters and their families were arriving from different states. My sister Christine couldn't come since her baby Cyndi was just born.

      My dad wanted mother's body brought to the house for the wake (like they used to do long ago) instead of leaving her at the funeral home. I guess the shock of her sudden death made him want to have her close by. I just remember people sitting up all night in the living room where her casket was placed, and how difficult it was to sleep in the bedroom next to the living room wall.

     My 3 younger sisters were still living at home. Judy was a senior in high school, Alice was a Jr. and Carolyn was in the 6th grade and only 12. I don't remember too much about the funeral except there were so many people there. They even closed the school in Elba the day of her funeral and I didn't ever remember them doing that. We met so many people who knew her from working with her at Covington Industries where she went to work on her first job, as an inspector in 1952, when I started to college. So many recounted the kind things she had done for them and how nice she was to everybody. That was my mother!

      When we were young she made all of our clothes, gathered food all summer to can and preserve, worked in the garden and field, cooked meals in the early days on a wood stove, and helped all the neighbors with their chores. Wash day was a big event every week with all of us chipping in to help. I loved building fires under the big black wash pot. Even today I love to build fires and am very good at it. She taught us to iron the stiffly starched garments and not to scorch them or create wrinkles or creases. To this day I like to iron and removed all the wrinkles.

     My mother would remind us to complete our homework (but never had time to help us) and encouraged us to make good grades so we could get a scholarship to go to college and leave the farm. She was valedictorian of her class at Elba High School in 1932 but the depression was going on and she couldn't go to college. She wanted to make sure we did. All 6 daughters have college degrees, plus one has her doctorate and two have Master's degrees. Our brother Perry attended the Univ. of Ala. and had so many college classes later at work that he probably had enough hours for a PhD.

     I recently read in an old Elba Clipper, on the front page, that Ruth Smith, a popular young lady, had married Lawrence Wilson, a farmer from the Curtis community. They moved in with his parents and we lived with them until I was in the 6th grade. Ah, such happy memories living there with them. Another story, another time. This was during and right after WWII.

      I remember the first visit back "home" after my mother died, how hard it was to get out of the car and go inside. She wouldn't be there to greet us and hug and kiss the grandchildren. In time, my father learned to locate his clothes, to buy groceries and do a little cooking, and after a few years remarried when his youngest daughter was in high school.

      I have a hard time remembering what my mother looked like since I got married at age 19 and lived too far away to visit but once or twice a year. But her kindness and all the things she taught us has remained a big part of my life. When I accomplish something in my life for which I am proud, I always look up and thank my mother, and I can just see her smiling down on me!