Mohammed Ali....aka....Mom

Since I am pretty open about our daily lives....

The other night I heard mom up, she had not felt good all day... I got up to check on her...came up to her from behind...(major no no!) startled her...she didn't know me and before I knew it I was punched in the face hard several times. 

 I saw stars!   

Here is a picture of my lovely face.....

 Now, I have been asked how I handle it, why I put up with it.  My strength comes from God. Daily, hourly, minute by minute. I am not perfect, I lose my patience, I cry and just want to give up. 

Mom is mom. This is a hard season! No doubt. But mom is the mom I remember buying me an electric typewriter when the one we had went out. She is the mom when I had bronchitis as a very young bride came over to my little house as if she was charging hell with a water pistol.with an electric  blanket, Vicks, a vaporizer, potato soup and cleaned my house. And my dad check the whole house out. Ha!

Mom is the mom who made sure in his last days daddy was dressed in a flannel shirt, wranglers, 49er hat and Old Spice.

Mom is the daughter of Pearl and  gHomer, the sister to Evie, Bobbie, Imogene, Robert and Milburn. Wife to Charles, mother to Pam, Judy and Becky. Grandmother to many with greats and great greats! 

She is a child of God.