A Tribute to My Mother by My Sister

I was not going to write anything about Mother's Day; but as the day went on, I found myself thinking about my mother and what she might have been like. I didn't get the opportunity to know her -- she died of a blood clot that went to her lungs the month after I turned five. The only things I know are the anecdotes passed on by my brothers and sisters.

I thought I would like to share with you this tribute to my mother written by my oldest sister:

"I would like to add a little personal note about our mother, Ellen Murdock Patten.
Mom was a fun-loving individual – remember the parties for us and all the neighboring kids? On a Saturday night, or holidays, all the kids would come to our house because Mom enjoyed frying chicken and making salads and cake. We would sit around the dining room table and play games and eat.

"I cannot ever remember our mother not being there for us when we got home from school. She was always there at night, hardly ever leaving us alone. Mother never went anywhere to speak of unless she took all of us with her. Every holiday she always made us new clothes – dresses for the girls, shirts and sometimes jackets for the boys. For Valentine’s day she would spend a day or two making different kinds of candy and making Valentine Candy boxes for us, which Dad would then take out at night on Valentines and leave them on the door step, knocking at the door and running – a treasured treat.

"I cannot remember ever of having to cook a meal for the family in her stead, we mainly learned by watching. We did have to help with the housework, and outside chores.

"Mother was always happy with what Dad provided for her and never complained – though I think she would have been happier with indoor plumbing.

"Mother never seemed to complain about anything, she was always cheerful and full of song. This song, or poem, she carried in her purse during World War II, and would pull it out and read it to anyone who claimed they hadn’t heard it:

The Sonna The Beach

I sella da fish and I sella da crab
I notta so goot and I notta so bad
I live on the shore var da eagle he screech
I be Dago Peroni a sonna da beach

Dey say to me Toni vy for you stay here
You maak a more mon if you sella da beer
And I say to dem, Toni no want to be reech
He rather be chust a poor sonna da beach

One day I hear two feller talk on da sand
Bout a feller call Adolph – a big Nazi man
I no hear so goot what de say in da speech
But it sound like he to be a sonna da beach

Now I don’t think he be feller like me
Cause he don’t live here on the beach by the sea.
So as I think dat maybe heem and me each
Be two different kinda of a sonna the beach.

I chust Dago Peroni and dam glad I am
I glad I not what you call beeg Nazi Man
Cause when I die and when heaven I reach
Dey vill say “Come een Toni, you Sonna Da Beach."