Her name was Della, she was born in West Virginia on November 25,1913. The daughter of Albert W. & Nancy Ferrell. She was married to Therman Lester on December 1,1934. She was such a wonderful person everyone loved her from the minute they met her.

She didn't work outside the home until the early '60's when she took a job with the local school district because she didn't want my Dad to work two jobs.. Shortly after she started working Rheumatoid Arthritis started creeping through her body. Crippling her hands and feet to the point she had trouble holding a cup and even finding a good pair of shoes that fit.

But we NEVER heard her complain. She went on as if nothing were wrong.

As if this wasn't enough, she was later stricken with Alzheimers. To watch this beautiful woman turn into a shell of a body that had no life was the worst thing that could ever happen. The sparkle in her eyes were gone. The smile that was always there for me, no longer exisited.

Her pain and suffering ended on March 3, 1984 when she went home to the Lord.

I will never forget her beauty and her laughter.

She's still my mother, who's standing there.
It's still her eyes, her face, her hair.
It's still her body, but it's just a shell,
Of the mother that I once knew so well.
She's still my mother, who looks at me,
Then asks the question,"Who might you be?"

Her memory's fleeting, her gait is weak.
Loved ones long gone are those she seeks.
She's still my mother, whose angry words,
Like a sharpened sword, my soul can hurt.
She's still my mother, who shares our home,
This one we dress, whose hair we comb.
She's still my mother...I know tis true.
And so dear God, I turn to You.
Please give me patience, wisdom, and love,
Til the day that You take her to heaven above.

Let me return...if even through tears,
The love she gave me through all these years.
Though she often thinks that I'm her brother,
I'll love her yet...She's still my mother.

author
Jerry Ham

The song of the birds, I cannot hear,
The flowers I cannot smell.
I cannot remember the ones I loved,
And the things that I knew so well.
I cannot see the wondrous sights.
My eyes no longer can see,
The setting sun, the stars at night,
The beauty of a tree.
I cannot cry, I have no tears,
And yet my heart is filled with fears.
I cannot speak as I did before,
My voice has faded away.
I'm in a world all of my own
I cannot even pray.
I know no difference between day and night,
Time means nothing to me,
I cannot tell the wrongs from right,
Oh, God, what has happened to me?
I long to feel the tender touch
of someone to light the way,
Someone to lead me out of my world,
And turn the night into day.
I need a strong and gentle hand,
Someone who understands,
Someone who would guide me,
Out of these strange and distant lands.
author
Fred.A.Das