Today is my mother’s birthday. She was raised in western Kansas during the Great Depression and remembers the Dust Bowl and the tornadoes of her youth. She came to Wichita and got a job at Beech during World War Two, where she met my father.
While dad was out of town much of the time, mom raised me and my three brothers. She’ll tell you it was not easy, but I can’t imagine four finer, better-behaved boys than we were.
I don’t remember many extravagances, but I never went hungry, never missed a ball practice, and always had clean clothes. Mom served as Den Mother, drove in the many car pools, and helped run the youth group at Church. She was active in her sorority, where she made several close friends.
She’s lost two of her sons and her husband, and in January she broke her femur. But she still gets to the hair dresser once a week, and makes trips to the grocery store.
I think she’s doing quite well for a lady who turns 90 today.
Our thought for today is from Mark Twain:
“My mother had a great deal of trouble with me, but I think she enjoyed it.”