My mother was born on a small farm in northeastern Missouri, the fifth of nine children. Like all the other girls in her family, she left her rural school after the eighth grade and went to work helping care for children on a nearby farm. She moved to Chicago in 1929, where she worked as a family helper through the Depression, until she married my father (John H. Webber) in 1938. She had two children, Susan and John.
A farm girl to her bones, Mother loved gardening, canning, and cooking. She was active in her church, the Church of Christ, in Danville IL, where she lived from 1945 to 1995. She suffered a fall in 1995, and moved to a nursing home in Bertram TX in 1995, where she immediately set about making friends. She died there five years later. I remember her enduring cheerfulness, her ready smile, her stories about growing up on the farm with plenty of hard work but always in the embrace of a loving family. When she died, I kept her wrist watch and her gold-rimmed glasses. I am wearing both right now.
Mother, I often think that I am seeing through your eyes.
—Susan Wittig Albert