Gladys Artesia Fell Brewer

                                                  My brother Junior, me, and Gladys made in 1944

My daughter Jan and Gladys  in 1966

Last picture of Gladys before her death.

Today has been a rainy, dreary January day but most of all to me it has been a sad day. Today is my sister's birthday. I have been thinking of her all day. She was born eighty seven years ago but died in 1968 when she was forty-four years old. She was seventeen years older than me and more like a mother than a sister. She was the oldest and I was the youngest.  She was an abused wife and after twenty years of a bad life had divorced, had a good job and was living a good, comfortable life.  She found out she had colon cancer and back in the sixties there were no treatments like they have today.  She worked for a year after she was diagnosed and took all the experiential drugs she could, just to try to help someone else. 
I was pregnant with my second daughter when she died and she managed to get to the store to buy little blue outfit for "him" to wear home. She was just sure it was a boy.  When Michelle was born a month later, she wore that blue outfit home from the hospital! She was one of these people who was beautiful inside and outside.  I don't think anyone could ever say anything bad about her.
I still miss her today as much as I did then and I think of her often.  In 1966 and 1967 we lived in the same town with her and I was able to see her everyday.  I will always treasure those memories of her.
GLADYS ARTESIA FELL BREWER    January 24, 1924   October 9, 1968

Vela Artesia Frederick Fell 3-25-1905 to 7-2-2001

Today is my mother's birthday. If she were alive she would be 105 years old. My mother was born March 25, 1905, the oldest of fourteen children born to William Penn and Lena Bell Davis Frederick. She was born in Prentiss County, Mississippi, to an 18 year old mother who had fourteen children and died of cancer at the age of forty-one. She was born at a time when there were no luxuries and very little money. Times were hard and it is hard for someone of my generation to imagine what a hard life she must have had. She herself had eight children but lived to be ninety-six!
I was the eighth of her children being born when she was thirty-seven years old. We had a special bond. My older brothers and sisters with the exception of one brother who was three years older than me, were married or gone from home when I was still a little girl. Most of the time we were home by ourselves and she would let me do most anything I wanted. I was so spoiled, she would cook and wait on me and everyday when I got off the school bus she had me a snack waiting. She loved her grandchildren with all her heart and they adored her. When she was ninety she broke her hip and although she had surgery she was unable to live alone and was in a nursing home for the rest of her life. After this surgery her mind began to get bad.
In 1998 I had a massive stroke and spent 3 months in the hospital learning to walk and take care of myself. We decided not to tell her and it was over six months before I was able to visit her. I would try to hide my cane and did not talk about it. I really thought I was being smart at hiding it until one day she just casually mentioned that I needed to take care of myself since I had been so sick. We had not fooled her at all!
After her mind begin to go bad, she would never call me by my name. I would say, "Mama, do you know who I am?", and she would pat me on the hand and say," Of course, I do, you're my baby!". To the end she aways knew best. I may have been fifty nine years old but she still knew I was and always would be her "baby".
I loved my mother so much. There is never a day that goes by that I don't think of her. She was the sweetest, kindest, person I have ever known and she will never be forgotten!