Monday, May 14, 2012

Wilma May Reeves (Wootton) 12/21/1962 - 10/14/2001







This is a picture of the strongest woman I have even known, my mother. She was a loving, caring, and very independent woman. A Mother of 3, 2 girls and 1 boy. My mom and dad met when they were 15 and 17. They were married by ages 16 and 18 and had a beautiful baby girl in 1978. Both came from broken homes and had nobody but each other. My mom was raising her two younger sisters along with her own baby, going to school, and being a wife at the same time. At 16 I can only imagine how hard that was. My grandmother was an alcoholic and was never home, Mom never knew her real dad and my grandmother never could keep a man around long enough to become a father.

By age 18 my mother was pregnant with my brother. By then she and my father had moved into their own place. My mom dropped out of middle school and was a stay at home mom at this time. My father was a roofer and was always on the job making money to support his family.

At age 26 unexpectedly she was pregnant again with their 3rd child, which was me! I was not planned and they were both using precautions to prevent any more kids but they were blessed with another.

I was 6 months old when my mother packed all of our stuff and left with her 3 kids in the middle of the night. She did not tell anyone in her family where we were headed or what her intentions were. At this time my mother and father had problems in their relationship which I will never know what those were.

My earliest memory of childhood was at 4 years old. It was mom, my sister and brother and I living in a trailer house in Azle, TX. Mom worked 2 jobs so we were home a lot by ourselves. Mom drove an old blue escort probably the only car she could afford.

At sometime in between 5 and 6 we moved in with my step dad who lived in North Richland Hills, TX. We went from rags to riches. He provided a roof over our head, cars for my sister and brother, and a father figure for all of us.

Everything was peaches and cream until the year I turned 12.

October 14, 2001 I will never forget this day for as long as I shall live. My stepbrother, a friend and I were at the Mall. We get a phone call saying we need come home ASAP something had happened. By the time we got to the house it was to late. I can recall a police officer locking up our house and all the neighbors standing around. We were told that my mom was rushed to the hospital but that was it.

When we arrived at the hospital my family was asked to come into a room where they explained to us that my mother had passed away before the EMT was able to get her to the hospital. Then they asked if we would like to say our goodbyes for the last time. I can remember walking into a room and seeing my mother lying on a table with a tube coming out of her mouth. *This is the last image I have of my mother in my mind*
After the funeral I moved in with my sister who was 23 and had a 5 month old baby girl. Long story short things were complicated for all of us, we had just lost our one and only support. My sister was raising her first child without the help of a mother and I rebelled. My brother thought it would be best I go live with our father who we hadn’t been around for the past 11 years.  

So my brother loaded up all my stuff which wasn’t much for a 13 year old and moved me to San Angelo, TX to live with our dad.



"Although it's difficult today to see beyond the sorrow, May looking back in memory help comfort you tomorrow."
~ Unknown

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