A Journey of Hearts being uploaded


Ida Honeycutt In memory of loved one	Martha Honeycutt In memory of loved one	Grace Brinkley	Mark Ostetler In memory of loved one


Prudence Dillon : March 15th 1930-passed March 15th 2008:	Dr. Bill "Dusty" Cooke, born in Kannapolis, passed away Feb. 6, 2010	Phyllis Witherspoon Warren native of Dallas, passed away April. 7, 2010	Louise Adair Cabe -passed May 17, 2010, at White Oak Manor of Kings Mountain.

In memory of
Lillian Watson
May 2, 2010, at Gaston Memorial Hospital, Gastonia

In memory of
Margaret Houser
passed away 4/10/10

In memory of
Janie Mullis

In memory of
Mary Mobley
passed away April 9, 2010

In memory of
Nancy Ann Thomas Mayes
June 28th, 2010,

In memory of
Ruby Mathis Parker
July 20, 2010,

My mother was a child of the Great Depression. She was the youngest child of an unimaginably poor family in the mountains of Georgia. She had few advantages in her early life and was orphaned in her early adolescence. Following the death of her parents, she moved from relative to relative, seeking only to survive. The times were hard, however, and few people had the means to feed an additional mouth. When my mother first became able, she joined the thousands of people invading Atlanta in search of jobs. She was able to eke out a living working any job she could find. At night, she lived with the Salvation Army….and she read. She read and she educated herself. My mother was a very proud person. And although her early life had deprived her of much, it did not prevent her from dreaming that one day she could achieve more. My mother had dignity.

As her life evolved, my mother married, and became the inspiration to my sister and I. She emphasized education, hard work, and perseverance. She continued to educate herself and eventually became a librarian for the Atlanta Public Libraries, where she worked until almost 80 years old. My mother gave my sister and I the means for success in our lives, but, what I remember most are the lessons she taught me from the heart. My mother was a friend to the poor street people and unattended children that could often be found on the streets of inner city Atlanta. She knew their names, and, they knew her. She always had a bag of candy close at hand, or some pocket change at the ready. My mother was kind.

In 2002, my mother had a knee injury that she did not recover from very well. As a result, she moved to Charlotte into an assisted living facility. For two years, she enjoyed her new home and the new friend she made. But, in the middle part of 2004, we all began to notice a change. My mother was not the same person. I began to receive reports of actions that were attributed to her that I simply “knew” could not be attributed to the dignified woman that I loved. But, the reports were true, and, what I was seeing was the beginning of a long farewell. In two months time, my mother was moved to a center for dementia disorders.

The end came in June, 2005. But only someone who has experience the battle with someone they love can understand what I am about to write…the day my mother passed away, I felt she had been freed from a terrible prison. Dementia is a prison that prevented that tall, beautiful, and dignified woman from remembering who she was. There continued to be moments of happiness, and there were even some sweet moments of humor. But, my mother was in a prison. She was sentenced there as an innocent person. There was no hope of release, and yet, my mother was victorious again, just as she had always been. She was true to the lessons she taught my sister and I. And, when I walked beside the still figure of my mother as we left the facility that evening, I was never more proud of my mother. I watched the van drive away knowing that my mother had been freed from that prison. She had been redeemed.

Michael Hamilton

Memory Page