She was “Mom” to all my friends. She was “Mama” to me. She was my friend, my confidant, my cheerleader…and occasionally my adversary. She was generous to a fault. She was stubborn, funny, and terribly naïve to the ways of the world. She was unassuming. I loved that I could make her laugh…no matter what.

I’ve been going through the family archives and scanning them into my computer. I came across something she had written in her beautiful Spencerian script. I thought I would share it with you here. A little different than the original poem by Saxon White Kessinger but the same great message. (Thanks for the reference, Sharon!)

“A Measure of Importance”

Some day when you're feeling important,
Some day when your ego's in bloom,
Some day when you're feeling you're the
Most important man in the room.

Take a bucket & fill it with water.
Stick your hand in up to the wrist.
Pull it out & the hole that remains
Is a measure of how much you'll be missed.

You may splash all you wish when you enter.
Stir the water around galore.
But you find when you finally leave it
It's exactly the same as before.

So as you follow your daily agenda
Always do the best that you can.
Be proud of yourself, but remember…
There is no indispensable man.

This was Mama’s creed…unassuming, humble, modest, kind, gentle, loving, generous, and sweet. She left us 11 years ago today and I still want to pick up the phone and tell her something I heard or to make her laugh. I miss her tremendously. RIP, Wanda Belle….I love you.

❤

Her children rise up and call her blessed; her husband also, and he praises her:

Proverbs 31:28