Mother's Story

This is the first draft of the first chapter of my new project, writing about my mother's life. She'll be 99 this summer, and I hope to have the story finished by the time she turns 100. Then we'll start a new chapter.

I'm hoping my brothers and cousins will give me some feedback on this fictionalized history. Actually, I'd love to have feedback from anyone at all. This is a game. Play with me!   

Chapter 1

July 1, 1912

Albert Sidney Cummings, six feet tall, large-boned and handsome, waited confidently on the porch of the farmhouse. He had reason to be confident in his wife Susie’s strength and resilience in childbirth. They had six strong and healthy children, two daughters and four sons. Even Harrell, the boy who died as an infant, was healthy and strong at birth.
Sid thought of the day their first baby was born.
“Let’s name her Mary, after our mothers,” he’d suggested.
Susie shook her head, smiling at Sid with contentment. “I like Felicia. It’s beautiful and it means happy. That’s my wish for her.”
Felicia, 16 years old now, provided competent help for this latest birth.
That morning, Susie woke Sid early. “The baby will come today. Tell Aileene to get Elma dressed. You can take them to Mrs. Barton’s on your way to fetch the doctor. She said they could stay with her for a few days.”
Sid jumped out of bed and pulled on a chambray shirt and dungarees. He went to the room where Aileene, seven years old, was sleeping with Elma, three. “You have to wake up now, Daughter. The new baby is coming today.”
Aileene rubbed her eyes looked around. “Where is Sis?”
The second bed in the room was neatly made. Sid smiled. Susie got her way with Felicia’s name, but the family always called her Sis. “She’s fixing our breakfast.”
“ Get up now. You and your little brother will stay at the Bartons while Mother is lying in.”
Aileene didn’t move. Her eyes widened. “How long will that be?”
Sid picked Elma up from beside her and rocked him in his arms. “It depends on what the doctor and Mother decide. With this boy, it was only ten days.” Sid rubbed his stubbly chin against the top of Elma’s head, further tousling the blond hair.
“That’s a long time, Daddy.” Aileene stuck out her lower lip as tears welled in her eyes.
Sid sat on the bed, shifted Elma to his lap and pulled Aileene close to his side, hugging her shoulders. “You probably won’t be there the whole time. Don’t cry. If Sis can manage everything, you can come home sooner.”
Aileen wiped her eyes, brightening. “Oh, Sis can do everything, Daddy.”
“I think you’re right. We’ll see. Now, put your clothes on and dress Elma. Gather what you’ll need for tonight. I’ll come get you tomorrow to see the new baby. Then we’ll decide how long you’ll stay at the Bartons. Help out there, mind your manners and take care of your little brother.” Sid put the boy down on the bed and stood.
Entering the next room, Sid found that Clyde, 14, was already getting dressed, his narrow bed made. Ennis, 12, and A.D., 10, were stirring in the double bed across the room.
Sid paused a moment, thinking, Guess we’ll need to get another double bed for this room and move Elma in with these boys. If the new baby is a girl, we’ll have a girls’ room and a boys’ room.
“Get up, boys. The new baby is coming today. I’m going to fetch the doctor. You boys will do the milking and tend to the stock this morning. Bring the team and hitch the wagon, Clyde. Sis’ll have breakfast ready soon.” Sid left the room to check on his wife as soon as the younger boys groaned, stretched and got out of bed.

* * *

That afternoon, waiting on the porch as the doctor and Felicia attended Susie, he looked south across the fields toward Lockney, the nearest town. To the west clouds rose behind a grain elevator. He sniffed the air and thought he could smell rain. He walked to the end of the porch and looked north. Sure enough, low dark clouds streamed rain onto his neighbors’ cotton and maize crops. White billows plumed out above. His heart lifted, again taking in the delicious smell of wet earth. This was another thing to celebrate, as soon as he was sure Susie and the new baby were safe and well.
Focusing on his own pasture, he saw a herd of antelope grazing with the cows. Beautiful, he thought. He’d come to love this west Texas farm country. The small amount of rain they got fell in the summer, when it was most needed. The wind blew almost constantly, so he could count on the windmill to supply sweet groundwater all year.
Sid’s thoughts were interrupted by the lusty cry of a newborn. He went to the window. “Sis, tell me.”
Felicia came to the open window with a red, wrinkled, furious-looking baby wrapped in flannel. “I have to clean her up, Dad. It’s a girl. Isn’t she beautiful?”
“Yes, she is. Like all our babies.” Raising his voice a bit, he called, “Are you all right, Mother?”
When she didn’t answer, he felt alarmed. “Is she all right?”
Felicia answered, “She’s just tired. I think she fell asleep. You can talk to her in a little while.”
Sid went into the parlor adjoining the bedroom. He sat in his oak-framed rocking chair to wait for the doctor.
When Dr. Pennington emerged, he shook Sid’s hand. “Congratulations, Mr. Cummings. Your wife is remarkably strong, and the baby is a big healthy girl.”
“Thank you, Doctor. Everything tolerable?”
“Yes, yes. No problems. I just need to fill out the information for the birth certificate and I’ll be on my way.” The doctor sat at a small desk near the bedroom door, smoothed his long black beard close to his chest and took a heavy paper from his inside coat pocket. He unfolded it and wrote with the pen that stood in an inkwell on the desk.
“Monday, July the first, 1912,” the doctor said aloud as he wrote.
Sid walked past him into the bedroom, bent and gently kissed his wife’s forehead. She opened her eyes and mumbled, “Another girl.” She lifted the light quilt to show Sid their new daughter, who was lustily nursing.
“Oh, Susie. She’s beautiful.” Brushing the short, downy hair back from the baby’s face, he smiled. “Hello, Daughter.”
From the door, the doctor asked, “What will you name the baby?”
“I defer to my wife on that. What do you want to name her, Mother?”
“Willah Mae,” Susie answered in her soft Georgia accent.
The doctor wrote, “Willie Mae Cummings.”

Thus began my mother’s life.