Just A Reminder- Moms Is Good People. Ever Tell Her?

This is a guest post by me TJ, Darlene’s son. Its her blog. today I felt like I should step in the gap for her and write something.

Now I must admit I did not get permission to write this or guest blog but I took the liberty since I thought the topic was appropriate for everyone.

( Plus she’s at church now too)


LOL.

I’ve been reminded now that she’s 80 of the things she did on a daily basis since I was a child that I just assumed everyone did.

I woke up in the morning as a youngster to seeing her at 4:35 in the morning with a prayer Journal praying for an hour alone writing down her prayers.

Every day throughout my school years I never thought twice about it. That’s just what mothers do I assumed.

Anybody who needed help and if she had it to give she would not only give what she had but she would try to get more from anybody to help them- even though she had in most cases much more need herself.

It didn’t make any sense to me refrigerator is empty and she’s begging everybody for food to give it to somebody else. I did have my thoughts about her sanity and just overall well-being at the time.

The suicide of my brother ,a violent violent husband who is my father ( she forgave him) and then a lot of really bad things that happened in her life after that became a part of her ,

She had it rough from the get-go as she learned that her own mother actually died because of giving birth to her, which is still today a painful thought for her.

Its difficult for her to not take blame for things that happened to other people, which is her nature to accept blame for everything because of the way she difficult times and abusive people have taken advantage of her kindness.

Im not going to social work or therapy you to death- but I have spent 25 years working with people with similar stories.

We live in a world today where everybody’s angry about something – everybody is putting others down to try and make themselves feel better about their miserable life.

But here’s the turning point. What separates people like my mom from the rest of the world.The key for me that opened up a door of freedom that I’ve never known.

Before I go there please read the next paragraph.

If you’re a mother reading this and you haven’t been the right kind of mother this is not the end.

Restoration can happen very quickly but not with any human power and this is what separated the foundation of my mother’s life and what it taught me from where I am today seeing the world.

All these years of giving and serving God the best she knew how and having a right heart is the foundation whereby this fruit of evidence of the Holy Spirit of God has been exuding from her.

Her morning praying time when I was a kid was the beginning of the foundation of my faith.

It took a long time to really come to fulfillment and to understand that the reason she is who she is today is not because she did the ritual of writing prayers down and praying- but because she truly spoke with God everyday and had her heart dedicated and committed to the Lord Jesus Christ.

You can’t talk to God without having a relationship with Christ and receiving his forgiveness first. Maybe now’s the time. What do you think?

The Bible says the fruit of the Holy Spirit of God is patience kindness, long suffering, love etc.

That’s exactly what I’ve seen out of her life.

I’ve been with her every day for years now and I’ve watched her have two heart attacks last year and almost a stroke just last month.

Spent five days in the hospital did not know who I was or where she was that entire day.

In 24 hours her full memory and almost all of her physical capabilities restored.

With mom it’s never a come home and feel sorry for me pity party. It’s “what can I cook you for dinner”. or “do we have anything to eat that I can make you?”

I’m done telling about the stories because if I really told you the whole story it would be almost unimaginable and I think you get the picture.

Whether you are a mother or father or a child, there is no possible way any human being could survive without the faith that somebody like my mother has.

It just can’t happen without commitment and dedication to the Lord.

Being in the Word and being around believers/ praising God and prayer.. there is no other way.

Have you been holding out holding back or rejecting God angry at God, calling yourself even an atheist cuz you just don’t want to believe anything about him?

Well maybe it’s time now. What do you think? You had enough yet? I promise you it don’t get any better.

Maybe it’s time to ask Jesus Christ to come into your heart and forgive your sins.

Acknowledge that you need him and watch the change.

Enjoy peace. I encourage you to do that because the rewards are greater by far than the hurt that comes in this world which is so temporary.

So quickly diminishing and being set for the final and grand finale. If you’re sick and tired of being miserable and rotten why don’t you just go ahead and surrender.

The real reason I wrote this post about my mother, is for you to think about your mother or father, or relatives or friends or sister- brother. They may be going through things that you have no idea how badly is hurting and affecting them.

Let’s cut to the chase for a minute- do they deserve your forgiveness?

Do you deserve God’s forgiveness?

Right.

I also encourage you that even though this is not Mothers day, take time to I’ve remind yours if she still around that she means alot and tell her why.

There’s people right now thinking ” you don’t know what this person has done to me- you don’t know!

I could never forgive them. But let me tell you this the Bible says if we can’t forgive them we really have no right to ask God to forgive us so it can’t have your cake and eat it too if you know what I mean. And I’ve tried believe me it didn’t work.

if you still didn’t catch it? If you are still not picking up what I’m putting down. scroll up until the “Let’s cut to the chase” part and read that one more time.

If your aversion to God has to do with something so bitter and unforgiveness toward somebody let me tell you something that’s going to unlock a freedom in your life. Holding onto forgiveness towards someone else does not affect them one bit.

They go on with their life. However it does hurt you.

Unforgiveness breeds bitterness and that locks you into an angry state of mind for the rest of your life until you release it.

You don’t have to go face-to-face and do that. You could get on your knees and ask God to forgive you for not forgiving them and then forgive them openly to God and release you from the prison you’ve been locked in.

I’m no warden but I just gave you a key to get out of your cell.

Now it’s up to you. Tell your mother how much she means to you and how much you love her and how much she’s been a great influence on your life.. regardless of the negative things that she may have done or the mistakes she has made.

And lastly as a personal favor to me-

Would you mind praying for my mother today?

Even a person of her faith after 80 years of solid hardship can become discouraged.

Her faith is not moved but she is human. She needs lifting up.

She will never ask anybody but I will and I am now.

So to you believers out there I’m asking you to spend some time today to lift Darlene up and restore the joy of the Lord in her.

If you have the gift of intercessory prayer, intercede until you feel a breakthrough.

To not let her focus on what happened to her and the things that people did to her and feel guilty about things that happen.

Any of you are not Believers but do become Believers after this-

I’m asking you to do the same thing because your prayer then will mean just as much as any believers prayer.

Well I think I said enough and I hope that you take these words to heart.

I felt led this morning to write this on behalf of my mother who’s been just an incredible woman to anybody who’s known her and got absolutely zero in return and never complained about it.

Do you know anybody like that?

I don’t know too many people either. It’s just more evidence of Christ in her and it just builds my faith.

But she’s human. Lately after a lifetime of beat down after beat down she is discouraged.

Just like the disciples were and people in the Bible that were very discouraged, so it goes with us humans right now.

Please pray for her today.

Even though it’s a small group here as its a new blog and she’s been out for a while.. Go ahead and share this as much as you can because this isn’t about just my mom -this is about everybody in the world today who are down.

Hurt people need encouragement and maybe by reading this God will use it some way to encourage them.

If he has used it to encourage even one of you- let me know. Comment.

PLEASE– if this meant anything to you I think it would mean something to her. Share here.

If you were touched in any way by the Lord in this or something happens in your own family you want to share -anything encouraging about this would really make her day.

On my blog called

Dont Label My Kid!

I have reposted many articles for somebody and not remembering that people in 150 countries saw it.

Some of you have great big followings and even though this is a small blog- if you think this could help somebody by posting… do whatever you got to do.

It isn’t about just my mom or yours. Its for anybody who has not been fortunate enough yet in their life to hear this message of hope. Don’t keep it to yourself.

My mom was a published author many times over in her early young career and an editor for a major publishing company.

If it wasn’t for her, I don’t think I would have ever read one book or even written on a bathroom wall. ( I mean like my friends did… I didn’t do that)

I’m glad I have the opportunity to share my writing with you-a gift that she gave me.

This time I get a chance to use it for her benefit. A blessing.

I hope to hear back soon from many of you with good reports

Thank you for praying for my mom and I’ll be praying for you and your family as well.

Amen…Tj

The Life And Times of “Eddie Girl”…

8 Enough? This Is Eddie’s Family…

Eddie and her crew,...

First row , second from right is Eddie, a little lost in that tribe she has around her!

The Early Days…

One of my earliest memories is walking to St. Dominick’s Catholic Church each Sunday with my older sisters. Rain or shine, dressed in our Sunday dresses and black patent leather shoes, we walked the mile to church. As we got near the church, we could hear the church bells ringing. So began my lifelong walk of faith in God. Praying has always meant a lot to me.

When my younger sister, Juanita, was old enough to go to church, our mother went with us. I remember one morning when we had changed our clocks, and it was still dark when we left but we kept going and arrived early.

My sisters were a significant part of my life. I was born January 10. 1923, the 5th of 6 girls, and was called “Eddie Girl”. My real name is Edvidge, after my dad’s sister.

Our dad, Edwin Berault, had a steady job at Stratton Baldwin, a downtown hardware store, on Tchoupitoulas Avenue. He was hired when he was very young and was reliable and good at handyman projects. After he built a wooden sailboat, he was called “Skipper”. My sisters and I enjoyed going on his boat, which he docked at Lake Ponchartrain.

Dad invented a unique safety latch which he presented at an inventor’s conference in Mobile, Alabama. He also taught himself to play the harmonica. I really enjoyed it when he sat down and entertained us by playing popular songs for us.

We all grew up in New Orleans.

Our mother, Victoria, was a good cook and made great Gumbo and Jambalaya. I wasn’t quite as fond of the red beans and rice she made on Saturdays when my Uncle Finn and Aunt Abou joined us for dinner.

Most of our family knows the story of the live turkey our uncle had delivered one Thanksgiving. That bird did not want to be our dinner and gave Mother a very hard time. When she finally succeeded in winning that battle, she had another ordeal pulling off all his feathers. In the end, we really enjoyed that bird . . . he was very tasty. But no more live turkeys. Even my own children have heard his story. Being an excellent seamstress, our mother made most of our clothes. She saved money and on Dollar Days took the bus (which was free on those days) to downtown New Orleans, and shopped in downtown New Orleans for material to make us new dresses. We were always delighted with the fabric she selected.

Juanita was born when I was four years old and Emma was a couple of years older. We were sent to stay with our Aunt May but did not know of the coming event. How well I remember just getting out of the bathtub when the telephone rang to announce we had a new sister. I was so excited and now eager to get home to see her. When we arrived home, I ran into the house as fast as I could, eager to meet my new baby sister. I kept wondering how that stork got her into our house.

Hazel, my girlfriend, lived right across the street from us and we usually played very well together and had a lot of fun. I say usually because we did at times have our little disagreements and squabbles. Then we each sat on our curb and made faces at each other. Sometimes I would sing-song loudly, “Hazel Teladana, rotten banana.” She tried to think of something equally nasty to rhyme with my name but usually gave up. We were sad when her family moved but then I began playing often with Erna, who lived down the street and we became close friends.

One day, when my mother was bending over our bathtub working hard scrubbing clothes, I came running in. My sisters and I wanted to have a tea party, so they put me up to ask Mother for a quarter for refreshments. They knew I would have the courage to ask her. When she stopped, astonished, to look at me, I thought for sure she would be angry, Then she said, “With that much nerve, I will give it to you.” So, my sisters and I went to the store to buy refreshments and came back to have a tea party.

As a child, I was very inquisitive. When I was finally “of age” to begin kindergarten, on my first day of school Maris walked me to my class. On the way. we stopped at a large, two-story building. I looked up at it and asked, “Is this kindergarten?”

“No,” laughed Maris. “This is my friend, Lorraines’ home.” Soon we arrived at Lakeside school and I happily walked in by myself. I was very excited..

About a year later, when I was in first grade, on a beautiful sunny day, I decided I did not want to be inside. So I climbed out the low, flat first floor window sill without anyone noticing. I walked home alone and enjoyed the lovely day. No one ever found out. Things were very different then.

When I was a few years older and attending Beauregard School on Canal Street, I got into the habit of dragging a long stick across the sides of cemetery plots. They were breaking apart from age and I discovered I could rattle bones with the stick, For some reason, I found doing that rather entertaining. Some of my friends found that creepy.

One time, when a serious storm was predicted with major flooding expected in our area, it rained for three days, and got a foot high. Dad put Juanita, Emma and me each in small metal tubs, and tied the three tubs together in a circle, so we were in a sort of boat. We were well prepared for the worst but, thankfully, we did not end up getting as much flooding as predicted.

On a hot summer day, I came up with the idea to play inside a nearby vacant house that was for rent. My younger sister, Juanita, was with me. . . I was supposed to take good care of her. Also my friend and her sister were along. I climbed in a small unlocked window, then went downstairs and opened the front door so my sister and friends could come in.

We were all playing in the laundry shoot when we heard voices and tried to be very quiet The realtor had brought people in to view the house. Naturally we were afraid and tried to stay still. They came very close to where we were all hiding in the laundry shoot. We held our breath and thankfully they did not catch us. It was a close call.

Among my friends were twin boys, Bobby and Ray. Their father was a veteran and recruited all 3 of us to stand on corners and sell poppies on Veteran’s Remembrance Day. Another of my friends, Lyle May, died young of appendicitis.

I was about 10 years old when I heard about a lady who lived near us giving tap dancing lessons. I really wanted to learn to tap dance so my oldest sister, Maris, offered to pay for me to take dancing lessons. I enjoyed the tap dancing lessons for about two years.

From time to time, members of my family and friends ask if we ever ran out of food during The War or The Great Depression. I really do not ever remember being hungry as my dad had a steady job with a stable company and mother was thrifty and cooked economically.

But one year we did not buy a Christmas tree. My sister, Cecile, came up with a good idea; “Let’s decorate Dad’s model yacht and put it in our window.” she suggested. A friend of Dad’s had given him a medium-sized model yacht and it was just the right size. So we did decorate it and it looked very festive.

We did not own a car until I was older. Dad took a bus to work and bus and streetcar to his boat on Lake Pontchartrain.

streetcar

Mardi Gras was always appealing to my sisters and to me. For many years, Uncle Finn and Aunt Abou lived not far from the big parades. We walked from their home to see all the excitement. M Also, small groups had their own parades that went right in front of the home where Uncle Finn lived. In addition, there were truck parades with floats. My sister Emma rode on a truck float one year. Everywhere, strings of purple and green beads were being thrown to those lined up to watch the parades. Fat Friday was always a big deal, the day before Lent began, and most partying stopped.

One day, I was invited to a birthday party for a friend from school who lived a bit further from our home than I usually went by myself. After we played a few games, her family decided to take us in their car to Café du Monde. It was my first time visiting this popular New Orleans Coffee Shop and my first time tasting their famous “beignets”. (Tasty deep-fried donuts with lots of powdered sugar sprinkled over them.) I really liked the beignets.

cafe new orleans

As it got later, I realized I had been gone quite a while and hoped they would soon want to leave. But I didn’t suspect I might be in serious trouble with my mother for being gone so long. When finally, they drove me home, I discovered my mother was extremely worried. She realized she did not even have the name or phone number of my friend so she had no way of checking to see if I was okay.

I was sorry to have worried her but the beignets were memorable.

One Christmas, several years, my niece, Joem, who lives in Gretna, near New Orleans,

sent me a box of mix to make beignets at home. My friend, Darlene, who also enjoys beignets, came over to help make them. It wasn’t easy and they did not taste quite as wonderful as the ones served at Café du Monde, but we really did enjoy making and eating them.

Joem is a woman of prayer and fervently prays for many people. Until she became too ill to attend, she was a faithful member of the catholic church near her home. Now her friend, the priest. often visits her and brings Holy Communion.

My sister, Emma, did not mind helping our mother with housework. . . in fact, she rather enjoyed it. But Emma felt it was only fair that I helped her help Mother. Sometimes I would let her know I didn’t want to, especially since she kind of enjoyed it. One day, she was ironing and I said something rather feisty to her. She came after me with the iron in her hand and I tried to dart out the door, just as our dad was coming in. Of course, I acted scared of Emma and Dad seemed to defend me.

Another time, my two oldest sisters decided to make fudge when Mother was not home. They tried to lock me out of the house but I climbed up the grape arbor trelise and crawled in a window. I said I was going to “tell Mother on them.” Perhaps I was hoping they would try to bribe me with some fudge. Instead, they grabbed me and said, “Let’s bump her.” They took me out to the front lawn and one grabbed me by my hands and the other by my feet. They began swinging me and bumping me on my behind on the grass. I think only my pride was hurt, but can’t remember if I did get any fudge or if I told Mother on them.

I remember one day I saw Emma running home crying very hard. As she got nearer, I could see big tears in her eyes. I kept asking, “What happened?” Finally she told me that our neighbor’s dog had been hit by a car and killed. The sight of the dog dying really disturbed her, especially since she knew our neighbor would be so sad to lose his pet.

As a young girl, I remember sitting in church and being impressed with my sister, Cecile, walking with other girls her age down the aisle in church wearing a blue cape. She belonged to the Legion of The Blessed Virgin Mary and took it very seriously.

One morning when I was in high school, I refused to get up and go to school. Mother kept telling me to get up. Finally I blurted out. “I want to go to business school.” To my amazement, Mother listened to me. Very soon. I was happily enrolled and attending one. After finishing my education, I got a job in the offices of Higgins Company. I was very happy when my Uncle Buddy (Mother’s brother), gave me a used 1927 Jordan car.

During most of my school years, Franklin D. Roosevelt was our U.S. President. (He was in office from 1933 to 1945.) Each Sunday our family listened to his Fireside Radio Chats. In fact, most of our neighbors did too.

President Roosevelt took a cross-country train ride to visit our nation’s defense factories. The day he was coming to New Orleans, I decided to walk to City Park, so I could see him. And I did get to see him, which was very meaningful to me. He visited the Higgins Ammunition Factory, which he highly praised. (Several years later, I got a job there.)

When my oldest sister, Maris, was about to have her first child, (Alfred, who was the first boy in our family), she asked me to come to her home in Memphis to help her. Maris had always been so generous to me so I was happy to be able to help her. While I was there, Pres. Roosevelt made his well-known radio speech announcing the bombing of Pearl Harbor by the Japanese. We were in shock.

Several years later, I was at home in New Orleans caring for my first child, Cheryl, when I heard another disturbing radio announcement.

President Roosevelt had suffered a massive cerebral hemorrhage which he did not survive. Again, it was shocking news. As I sat contemplating the implications of his death, I knew it was the end of an era! It was hard to even imagine having anyone else as our president since he had served our country for 12 years.

I also admired Eleanor Roosevelt. One of her most well-known quotes is: No one can make you feel inferior unless you give them your consent.”

In time, we got used to President Truman. He wasn’t as dynamic a speaker as President Roosevelt had been but we adapted. Truman was quick to acknowledge Israel as a state.

Mother’s political relatives. . . .

Victoria, my mother, was related to Hale Boggs, a New Orleans House of Representative Majority Leader, who went missing October 16, 1972 while on a plane over Alaska. (His father was my mother’s cousin. They shared the same grandparents). Mother attended his Memorial Services at St. Louis Cathedral in New Orleans.

His wife, Lindy Boggs, was elected to replace Hale in the New Orleans’ House of Representatives. Their daughter, Barbara, became the Mayor of Princeton, New Jersey. Another daughter, Cokie Roberts, became a Public Radio correspondent. Sadly, in 2019, Cokie died after a struggle with cancer.

When my daughter, Cheryl, was living with my mother and attending Louisiana State University, she kept up with the Boggs’ family. Hale Boggs’ body has never been recovered and the reason the plane crashed never solved.

Tootsie Boggs, Hale’s sister, celebrate her 104th birthday in April of 2019. We enjoyed a nice phone conversation that weekend.

My sister, Cecile’s, first job was for The New Orlean’s Girl Scouts of America. She wanted to become a Girl Scout Leader partly because she wanted to go camping. When she heard they needed a bugle player for morning and evening taps, she used some of her pay to buy a bugle. Then she taught herself to play taps. Sure enough, she was recruited to be a Leader and was always needed at the camping retreats.

This opened the door for me to become a Girl Scout. I, too, especially enjoyed going to Girl Scout Camp and having treats over the campfires. I wasn’t quite as fond of making some of the craft projects. My younger sister, Juanita, and I went to Girl Scout Day Camp together at City Park for several years, also.

Our entire family enjoyed gathering at my sister, Emma’s, home every Christmas Eve. Her husband had constructed a large party room on the back of their small home so there was room for all. We continued for many years.

A special memory is my introducing Juanita to her future husband, Bill. (I met Bill on the train when I was returning to New Orleans after marrying Maurice). They enjoyed a good, fruitful marriage. Bill always referred to Juanita as “my bride.” Over the course of the years, I had many occasions to visit Juanita and her family. She was a wonderful hostess, providing excellent meals.

Mother lived a long life. When she died at age 97, Juanita inherited her trunk of materials, and put them to good use. Juanita was talented in creating adorable handmade gifts. Each came with an appealing, appropriate poem about these being made with Mother’s material scraps.

When I was interested in dating, I met Maurice, a young man from St.Louis, who moved down our street. We were getting serious when he was drafted and sent to New Mexico for basic training in the service. When the time was near for him to be assigned to get into the war, he sent two train tickets for my mother and me to visit him. We did enjoy the train ride and then Maurice and I were married there.

He ended up being stationed not that far away, in Biloxi, Mississippi, I was able to go with him when he was stationed at MacDill Airforce Base in Tampa. By the time Cheryl was born he had been transferred overseas so was not in New Orleans.

Cheryl had a lovely doll collection, especially Bride Dolls. My dad made shelves for them, under the stairs. Cheryl was very particular about taking good care of them and if she allowed anyone to play with them she insisted they wash their hands. Her dolls stayed very nice all during her childhood.

Cheryl remembers coming home from school for lunch and enjoying being greeted by the aroma of banana toast.

By the time Jimmy was born, (my second child), his father was out of the service and attending Tulane University. My family especially welcomed their grandson as boys were still few and far between. Jimmy loved doing things with my dad, especially going on his sailboat on Lake Ponchartrain. Both Cheryl and Jim had several years to enjoy my dad but he died young at 61, so my older children missed those good times. Jimmy inherited my dad’s retirement pocket watch.

My mother, however lived to almost 97 and even built herself a new home, with the help of Alfred, her son-in-law, who was a builder.

Cheryl remembers a lovely afternoon when I took both her and Jimmy to Lake Ponchartrain. We sat on the sea wall steps together and enjoyed watching the sun set. After Cheryl shared this memory, I asked Jim ifhe remembers that ay and I was happy to hear him say he definitely does. He then described a memory of his own . . . having a nun yank and pull him by the ear to the office of the priest. Jim had simply passed out a Nesco candy wafer to each of his classmates while they

A few years later, it was my sister, Cecile, who welcome Cheryl and Jim to stay at her home in Long Beach, Mississippi, when Lem and I were headed to Biloxi to get married. She lived right on the way and gave us a few days to honeymoon. Cheryl enjoyed playing with Cecile’s daughter, Gayle.

Speaking of Lem . . .

eddie lem

My friend, Angela, moved to Biloxi where she worked for The American Red Cross. She met Lemuel Davis there and when he was transferred to the New Orlean’s Red Cross she gave him my phone number. Lem did call me and took me to the Officer’s Club to dance and get acquainted. Right from the start, we enjoyed each other’s company very much. Lem had served on a Submarine in the Navy in Australia.

Lem began coming over on Sundays and we took my children, Cheryl and Jim, to City Park. They enjoyed going on the merry-go-round.-These were fun days for us all.

Not too long later, we were married, on May 8, 1953. Then, Lem was sent to South Korea as a social worker by the American Red Cross to help soldiers adjust. I really missed him.

Marge, our daughter, was born while he was in South Korea. We lived on Spain Street in New Orleans. When Lem returned, he was transferred to Hattiesburg, Mississippi, where Mary was born. Then, not long later, he was transferred to Winterville, North Carolina

Our home in Winterville only had one room with air conditioning; our bedroom. But when it was really hot we invited all the kids in to chill out and watch television. Marge sometimes convinced Lem to pay her a dime to do his toes.

Jim got a job driving a mule team gathering tobacco leaves. When John F. Kennedy was campaigning in our area. I took Jim to see him in person. Marge was the only member of our family who worked for the company Lem was working . . . she did get a job in the mailroom at The American Red Cross.

Mary, Wesley and Donna were born in Winterville. Mary was 22 months older than her younger brother, Wesley, and as we were dealing with his unpredictable behavior, she was a tremendous help, especially when Wesley would get out of control. Mary was better at calming Wesley down than anyone else, including Lem and me. I asked the pediatrician to examine Wesley and she just mentioned he did not have much dexterity in his hands. She set up an appointment at Duke University and they spent an entire day trying to test him. They finally concluded he was “probably retarded” but too young to make an accurate diagnosis. Of course this was back in the 60’s before our current hi-tech testing equipment. We moved to Dayton, Ohio in 1963 and the move was especially hard on Wesley. Any change was very disruptive to Wesley so his behavior seemed to get even more out of control. His determination was almost unbelievable. He liked to go into the bathroom, lock the door, run the shower, undress and climb out the window, leaving his clothes behind. I would be running after him as fast as I could.

Lem and I took Wesley to a child psychologist who diagnosed our son as being “profoundly retarded,” and suggested he be put in a group home. I was devastated and said “Never.” During the weeks and months following this, Lem, I and Mary all tried to keep Wesley under control. Mary, being young and physically fit, was especially successful in calming her brother down. When Lem got home from work each day, he took over and Wesley enjoyed spending time with his dad. But the older Wesley got, the harder it was to control him.

Finally, after we moved to Florida, Lem and I knew we could no longer handle our strong and out of control son. Even Lem was unable to manage Wesley as he yanked down drapes and hurled lamps. It was hard for Lem to leave for work at his new job. That weekend we were desperate for help. Lem called the Governor of Florida who had been a college friend. Recognizing the urgency of the situation, the Governor made a call to a state group home in the Gainesville area. And even though new patients were not usually admitted on weekends, an exception was made for us.

A friend offered to drive up to Gainesville with Lem and Wesley, who was now 16 years old. It was a difficult drive but we knew we had no choice. And in the many years since, we have seen how well Wesley has adapted to the group home. Not long ago, we were enjoying a partial family reunion. His caregivers offered to drive him for a visit and we were glad he could spend time with us and be in a family picture. When it was time for Wesley to return to his group home, I worried he would not want to go. But he only hesitated a minute, then got in the van without a fuss. Clearly he has adapted!

Our daughter, Mary, developed a special interest in helping the mentally disabled. As a result she later earned a B.A. degree in Therapeutic Recreation for the Handicapped at Florida State University, her father’s Alma Mater.

Lem was determined to teach our children to plant a garden to grow their own vegetables. including cucumbers and tomatoes. So, everywhere we lived, he helped them learn to garden. Our youngest daughter, Liz, remembers planting watermelon when we moved to Florida. She was anticipating juicy red melons but was disappointed with the small, not as juicy ones that grew.

My mother, Victoria, often made special gifts for my children at Christmas. Margie still remembers an attractive dress she made for her that arrived in the mail in time for Christmas. . . a blue gingham outfit that Margie especially liked. As Mother and my girls grew older, she began making glamorous Barbie doll clothes. Donna can still describe the fancy outfits Mother sent. My boys, including Lem, looked forward to the homemade pralines she made and sent – the girls enjoyed them as well.

Being the youngest, Liz missed out on some of the homemade items but she especially remembers me taking her to Volusia Mall for school clothes, just the two of us. When Liz fell in love with Chris, he asked Lem for his permission to marry our Liz. Then he took Liz to a favorite restaurant in Jacksonvlle to ask her to marry him. She said “Yes”.

When Lem was hired by The American Red Cross in Dayton, Ohio, we had to stay in a motel until our house was ready. Donna made friends with a girl whose parents were in a similar situation. It turned out that Donna’s friend’s family ended up living fairly close to us, so that worked out nicely. In fact, after Donna told us about a dining room set they were selling, we bought it. Donna has a talent of arranging furniture so she could picture it in our house.

Donna especially enjoyed the winter weather and didn’t seem to mind it when it wasn’t that nice out. She enjoyed ice skating and most outdoor activities. In fact, years later she accepted a job in Minneapolis Minnesota. I visited her there, and enjoyed it but not in the middle of winter.

In June of 1973, Lem was offered a job at the Daytona Beach United Way. We moved to Ormond Beach, FL where I still live. It didn’t take Randy long to discover how much he enjoyed surfing. This worried Lem, so he decided to get Randy interested in fishing. That worked very well and, in turn, Randy passed his love of fishing on to his son, Brett. Randy and Brett often go fishing together. We have had countless fish fries through the years, especially since Randy and I share our home.

Randy also followed in his dad’s footsteps as far as making other meals on the grill, which I enjoy as well. He does most of our cooking these days,

Liz joined the Brownies and eagerly awaited being able to sell Girl Scout Cookies. “I can hardly wait to go sell cookies,” she said, the day before the cookie drive began. She was very independent and was the first to go out alone, door to door. to sell cookies.

When Hurricane Katrina landed in August 2005, two of my sisters who still lived in the Gulf Coast area, had to evacuate their homes mainly due to extremely high flooding. Emma’s home was flooded and had to be totally renovated, Their son, Jay, supervised the work. Since his dad had suffered a stroke, the renovations included making the home wheelchair accessible which was a blessing

Cecile’s home in Pass Christian, Mississippi, also had to be evacuated, due to serious flooding. My daughter, Mary, and members of her Methodist Church in North Carolina volunteered to help with the renovation process. Their hard work paid off and Cecile was very pleased with the renovations.

This all took a large amount of time, of course. It was good that both my sisters were satisfied with the renovation of their home and happy to move back in them. Flooding was the most destructive aspect of Katrina. In fact, the surge of floods exposed engineering flaws in the levies which gave way, some to 20 feet high. Millions of people were left homeless. Over 1,800 people died! Extremely large displacement of the population caused anxiety and depression. Some neighborhoods were never restored. –

When my children were young. I took them to the Catholic Church, as my own mother had taken me. After I married Lem, who was Methodist, he sometimes joined us.

When we moved to Ormond Beach, I decided to attend nearby Riverview Methodist Church with Lem.

For a time, I sang in the choir . . . after I went to the church to attend a Bible Study, but accidentally found myself at the choir room where they were rehearsing. I was encouraged to stay, so I did. For a while . . .

Later, I became involved in the church Thrift Shop, which I really enjoyed. This small group of workers volunteer to sort donated items and sell them. These funds make a significant impact on the church budget, in addition to helping those who can buy many items very reasonably. Recently, my body has been catching up with my age, so I am no longer active.

It was at Riverview Methodist Church where we met Beverly and Jim Lawyer. Bev invited me to attend prayer meetings at her home. In time, I served on the Board of Directors for her ministry, Logos Life and Light Foundation, in which I am still active.

Also, I have several other good friends from Riverview, including Betty, Jane and Evonne.

Throughout my life, in most situations, whether joyful or difficult, I have learned to trust The Lord. Even when His answer was not what I hoped it would be, I tried to accept His Will, knowing God would help me through every situation.

On Christmas Eve morning this past year, (2018), I asked my grandson, Brett, to drive me to my bank. When we got here, it tuned out they had just closed at noon. I was upset we had missed getting there before they closed early for the Holiday. “Grandma, look at the beautiful blue sky. It is such a great day.” said Brett. I did look up at the lovely sky and was blessed by his words. He was right.

Little did he know that those simple words would serve as a reminder of what I already knew was most important in life, appreciating God’s blessings.

A Bit of Family History

My father, Edwin, had a rather famous ancestor, a great-grandfather, named Valcour Aime who had owned Home Place Plantation House in St Charles Parish. Valcour operated a major sugar growing business, St James Sugar Refinery, which made him one of the wealthiest men in Louisiana.

( And looking back, we also had a sweet life that I am very thankful for)

His plantation also had one of the finest flower gardens in America. It was said to be inspired by Josephine Bonapartes’ English Garden.

Valcour Aime died of pneumonia January 1st 1867. Years later, his plantation sadly burned down, and even the gardens did not survive.