My mother died in 1991 – she would have been 91 years old on this November 28th. When she was 72, she made a tape, telling all of the family stories she could recall. She gave this accounting of the day she was born in Morrow, a small railroad town in Ohio.
“On Thanksgiving Day my father came downstairs and he told my mother, he said, ‘I dreamed we had a little girl and we named her Martha’ and she said, ‘Well, you better go get the doctor because I think your dream’s going to come true’ and he went for the doctor and I was born before the doctor got there. He went running down and said, ‘Hurry up, hurry up, doctor, the baby’s already here’ and old Doc said, ‘There’s no use hurrying if your baby’s already here.'”
So, we always associated Mother’s birthday with Thanksgiving and occasionally…
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