happy birthday

you may have tangible wealth untold;

caskets of jewels and coffers of gold,

richer than i you can never be -

i had a mother who read to me.

strickland gillilan

in spite of failing eyesight, my mother still reads to me. it may just be the road sign or billboard we pass on our daily "outings" but mom is still the designated reader! she has a passion for good writing. she recalls her mother reciting poetry to her and she continued the tradition of reciting to her own children and grandchildren. all of my aunts have the gifted ability to quote prose and poetry befitting a particular situation we may find ourselves in. i went on my first "coon hunt" with old dan and little anne, (where the red fern grows), learned how to make acorn pancakes, (my side of the mountain) and cried when little carol bird drifted off with the angels, (the birds christmas carol) all while sitting comfortably at my mother's feet. she would sit in the old white rocker and we would gather round anxious to hear her expressive yet gentle voice. to this day i don't believe there is anything more comforting to me than the sound of my mother's voice. it can chase all demons away.

in the morning hours, when the grandkids would sleep over, she would greet their day with a "get in your place". they would crawl up in bed beside her. she would then instruct them to get the book out of the night stand and proceed to read or rather recite favorite poems from robert louis stevenson. (it is only fitting that they should share the same birthday). and when timo comes to visit he to remembers where "his place" is. $5.00 for every poem learned and a quarter each time it was recited. that's what she paid the kids. there is not one grandchild that cannot recite a poem and i dare say that each time they do, they think of their gram.

through the years she has answered to many names, teen, aunt teen, momma afton, momochaka, gram. i am lucky enough to call her mom.