Words from a Reader

The “Writing Life Stories” e-mails I receive are such treasures. As soon as I see there is one in my inbox, I read it immediately. I look forward to them and never know how they will touch me. They can be interesting, informative, humorous, and/or touching.

Thursday, December 24, 2015

A Special Birthday

A teen aged Lois Robison
December 23 is my mother's birthday. She was born in 1904, right at the turn of the century near Whigham, GA. Her family lived on a farm near the Tired Creek Community. At the time, Whigham was in Decatur County, GA. I think it is now in Grady County. In that early part of the 20th century, the borders of the counties in that area were re-drawn.


Bainbridge, Georgia was the biggest town in Decatur County and was the county seat so Mother's records of birth, etc. would be found in Decatur County, in Bainbridge, I suppose. Many years ago I spent some time in Bainbridge doing genealogy research. Most of it led me to Grady County and later to  Mitchell County where Mama and Papa Robison are buried in the  Pelham Cemetary. 

The Robison family, William Henry and his wife, Malula Jones Robison, were good salt-of-the-earth people. That means they were the kind of people who were decent, upright and admired by their peers. I am proud to be descended from those Robisons who were hard working people, who raised good families and brought  up their kids with values that their own ancestors had passed down to them. 

Mother had three brothers, Avon Robison who was a barber, Dewey Lamar Robison, and Rudolph Robison, who was liked and admired by everyone who knew him including my father. When my mother spoke of her brother Rudolph, her voice softened and she smiled. I knew him better than I knew Uncle Avon and Uncle Dewey. When he visited us, he often slipped a nickel or a  dime into my hand as  he  was leaving. He did  the same with my  sister Gay. He had one child, a girl, Caroline. She has his sweet nature and genuine personality.


Lois Robison


When my mother married my father she was 18 years old, so young to become a wife and within the next year, a mother. She was the  kind of woman who took her marriage vows seriously. Although some women might have refused to move her family away from a home with electricity, running water and inside bathroom, to live in a drafty farm house with no electricity or running water, Mother did this. She had another baby in that drafty old  house and almost lost her to pneumonia.

 But Mother wanted him to live his dream. She never failed him in any way. She supported him when he was in despair, when he thought of himself and  not her, and when he needed her, in sickness and in health, she was there. 

Without Mother, I would not have survived. She listened to  my complaints, went to  school to talk to my teachers when I said I could not go back. When I needed her, I had all of her attention. I think I was a needy child and worried her more than the others.

Mother had a smile that could not be ignored and anyone she met soon felt like they had made a friend. I wish that every  troubled child could have a mother like mine. Her children never doubted she was there for us. She had confidence in me that it took me fifty five years to find in myself. 

We celebrated Mother's birthday every Christmas around the 23. She didn't make a big deal of  it, but she loved people and having a house full of family on her birthday or to celebrate her day, meant more to her than she could ever express. 

Mother and Daddy with their seven grown children at their 50th wedding anniversary
When I think of Mother I think of sacrifice. Selfless and generous, she made sure we had what we  needed even if she had to do without. Good mothers are like that. I was blessed to have a good mother. Unlike many girls I knew, I had a  great relationship with Mother. As I grew older we became close friends. 

My biggest regret is that I never told her how much I appreciated her sacrifices. But I have said it often since she has been  gone and I believe she hears me.


5 comments:

  1. Happy birthday to a wonderful woman who lives on in her children. This lovely story of a lovely person just lights up my day, Glenda. Thank you and Merry Christmas to you! :-)

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  2. DJan, that is the nicest compliment and I appreciate it so much. I am happy you enjoyed reading about Mother.
    Today's young folks don't say mother and some think it is archaic but we never said mom or even mommy. She was always mother until the grandkids began calling her Mur because the first one couldn't say mother.

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  3. You are so right, Glenda. Mother was the glue that held our family together but she never was the center of attention. She always kept her family in that spot and we blossomed in her presence because her love for us beamed from her face and actions.

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  4. You said it so well, Gay. She never wanted to be the center of attention. But she was the hub around which we all turned.

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  5. As I sit here this Christmas Eve and read your blog about your love and appreciation of your mother, my Aunt Lois, I smile thinking of her and how I wish I had been closer to her. She was always loved by me, but I really never realized what a strong and courageous and selfless person she was.Aunt Lois is such a beautiful, sweet looking woman in your photos that you posted. She was always so loving to me when I visited her.
    Rob

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