In LOVING MEMORY Of
BETTY JO (BRADY) TURNER
Crab Orchard, TN
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08-08-1934 - 11-14-1987
WHO IS MOTHER?
Mother---the poet applauds her, the historian praises her. But who is Mother?
Mother is the one who rises up from sleep to sooth the cries from the crib,
who
sits beside the bed with cool hand upon small feverish brow.
Mother is the one who sews, scrubs, cooks, irons, patches, and mops,
but some
how still has time for your every problem,
no matter how great, no matter how
small.
Mother is the one who sings that forever remembered lullaby.
Although her
voice may crack and creak,
although she may sharp the naturals and natural the
flats,
to a child and to childhood memories the song of Mother is the song of
the angels.
Mother is the one who bandages skinned knees and stubbed toes, who can kiss
away the pain
and say just the right comforting word that makes everything all
right.
Mother is the one who sits in the pew and with memories crowding in
will
smile a little and cry a little as she hears the words intoned,
"to love and to
cherish till death do us part."
Mother is the one who, as grandmother,
will spoil your children because she
loves them so deeply
and because in them she sees another you.
Mother is the one who will do the most for you and in return ask the least.
Her love never faddeth. No matter how far away you are,
she is always there to do
whatever you ask
in the same way she has always done; her best for you.
Mother is the one for whom you must finally pluck the white rose
and tenderly
pin it to your heart. Life is never the same without her.
You never become
accustomed to the absence of her presence.
She should call or write, but she
does not.
That which you took for granted for so long is no longer granted you.
A part
of the best of earth has slipped away, and you miss her terribly.
But you are not alone without her.
Look inside you. Count the best things in
your life;
character, love, unselfishness, forgiveness, kindness and gentleness.
They were all planted by that tender hand so long ago,
the hand of that
wonderful woman who cuddled you and held you and said,
"This is my child."
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The Legend of the Dogwood
“When Christ was on earth, the dogwood grew
To a towering size with a lovely hue.
Its branches were strong and interwoven,
And for Christ's cross its timbers were chosen.
“Being distressed at the use of the wood,
Christ made a promise which still holds good:
'Never again shall the dogwood grow
To be large enough for a tree, and so,
Slender and twisted it shall always be,
With cross-shaped blossoms for all to see.
“'The petals shall have bloodstains marked brown,
And in the blossom's center a thorny crown.
All who see it will think of me,
Nailed to a cross from a dogwood tree.
Protected and cherished this tree shall be,
A reflection to all of my agony.'”
"When someone you love becomes a MEMORY, the memory becomes a Treasure."
Husband - Roy Turner
Children - Terry
Mary
Sherry
Kerry
Jerry
"Jesus saith unto
him, I am the way, the truth, and the life:
no man cometh unto the Father, but by me."
(John 14:6)