I had to laugh when I stumbled once again upon this screenshot. Oh, my sweet momma could have me in stitches.
Her purse came with her for snack time at Beehive, oftentimes carrying an extra snack or two given to her by the caregivers. I mean, who could resist giving this pretty lady an extra snack or two?
Whether living with me, or living at Beehive Homes of Oregon (WI), momma’s purse was always within reach. Sorting through her purse was a favorite middle of the night activity, so I tried to keep it stocked with all kinds of treasures and little things to sort and discover over and over again.
Momma and her babies
Momma always seemed to have her purse along when she was caring for her baby, Dolly. The purse would usually be in her lap with her baby sitting on top. I treasure the sweet memories of my momma loving on Dolly. They gave me little glimpses of the love and gentle kisses I know she once bestowed on me.
Never leave home without it
A woman never wants to leave the house without her purse, you know. We even rigged her walker so she could take her purse with her on our little walks to the mailbox and back.
An early sign of cognitive decline
Momma’s purse held one of the earliest signs of cognitive decline. I remember a day when I was visiting mom and helping her search for her lost checkbook. Her purse was one of those multiple zippered pocket contraptions that seemed to always swallow her car keys, wallet, hearing aides, and checkbook. As I once again searched the pockets she had already searched, I found both the lost checkbook and a list written in my mom’s familiar cursive hand. The list told a story of something else that was lost–the names of her very best friends at church. My sweet momma had taken her church bulletin and had practiced recalling and writing their names over and over again, willing herself to never forget them again.
Barefoot Lily Lady 