Remembering Mama on Her Birthday...The Ladies in the Painting...

   This beautiful lady to the left is my mother, Betty Poe Humphreys. If memory serves me right, I think this photo was made after I was born. Mama would have been about 22 or 23. I called her "Betty Lou" when I could get away with teasing her.  I used it at times when she did something funny, or scared the snot out of me driving. She was the most descent, kind person I have ever known. I will miss her forever.

   We lived with her parents, Harry and Fayetta Poe, for the first eleven years of my life.  It was a wonderful childhood. I was one loved little girl.

   Mama had a million stories and I absorbed each story she told. They made a lasting impression on me. I wish I could remember  all of them now, however I don't. The ones I do, I cherish.  One of my favorite stories is about the Christmas Uncle Gene, her brother, and Mama bought Mamamae one of the most beautiful paintings Mama had ever seen. The painting was centered around another era in life.   

                                          

                                                     Mama was working at the Dime Store in Clinton. She was about 16 when she saw this painting in a local furniture store. She had to have it for Mamamae. It would be the fanciest thing Mamamae owned at that time.  Uncle Gene, who would have been about 14, worked odd jobs.  Together they saved their money to buy this painting for Mamamae's Christmas present. It was almost Christmas Eve and the painting wasn't paid for yet. Uncle Gene took a wagon and picked up scrap metal and junk to sell. He made enough that day to finish paying for the gift.  Every time Mama told me this story her eyes misted over with words left unsaid.
 
    I can remember looking at the painting and making up stories about the ladies and what they were doing. In my mind, it was always at the beginning of the Civil War. The friends were having an afternoon tea. The lady playing the piano and the young woman playing the harp were sisters in my imagination. The young woman sitting in the chair would soon be their sister in law. They would be married before he joined the Confederate army. I was usually the lady in the chair. Sometimes, but not often I would be the lady playing the piano. For some reason I never wanted to be the young woman playing the harp...and neither did Darla, Uncle Gene and Aunt Donna's daughter. If I were allowed to pick a sister Darla would be it. We would take turns being the ladies in the painting. The poor girl playing the harp was on her own in our imaginary world.
 
   That painting has moved with us sixteen times. It has been displayed in numerous states. Unfortunately, once it was stored under our bed.  At that time my home was decorated with American Indian décor and the ladies did not fit in anywhere. I always felt guilty about that...but I did love that native look.
 
   Now my home is decorated with photographs of people I love and places I have been.  Mama's three ladies are back with a new picture frame. I still have the old one. Someday they will all be reunited.
 
   It is a good day in my part of the world. Happy Birthday Mama...you were the best.