Mom’s name is Betty Jo Glover McBroom, but everyone who knew her called her “Jody.” She was born in 1929 to Laura and Bill Glover of Happy, Texas. Mom was a proud Happy Cowboy. The photos I have included were Jody as a Happy Cowboy and one of her first pictures after she married my Dad. Have you ever noticed how handsome and beautiful all our parents (or grandparents) were during those World War II years? I swear, the all look like those glamorous movie stars of that era.
It’s always hard when someone we love passes away. Though it’s certainly inevitable, it is, nevertheless, a sad time for everyone who loved her and that was a LOT of people. As Lennon and McCartney said: And, in the end, the love you take is equal to the love you make.
She was a part of “The Greatest Generation.” Her friends faced down Hitler and really made America great. For real. She would save aluminum foil, clean it, and reuse it.
They say God gives us all a special talent. For Mom, that was her gift of making beautiful wedding cakes. For decades, her gift to every girl in our church was for her to make their wedding cake. Now, that was quite a production. For the days leading up to the wedding, there were cakes, icing roses (sometimes hundreds) of various sizes everything else that went into making these huge cakes. Then she would take them, often in several trips back and forth to the church, and them assemble them there in the Trentman Avenue Baptist Church Fellowship Hall. They were always gorgeous, and every beautiful bride had no idea what she went through every time to make those things just perfect.
She understood nothing about football, but she attended every one of my brother’s and my football games. She often just stayed in the car, but she was there “just in case.” On occasion, (which happened more than once) if I had blood on my jersey, she would make my poor dad go down at halftime “just to check” on me.
Our home in Kennedale was a big old house on top of a hill – right next to the cemetery. So, we had the very best Halloween parties for the kids from our youth group at church. I would take groups (of girls, mostly) on “tours” through the cemetery and Mom would actually take part in pranks intended to scare the begeezus out of anyone there. Not to mention, the cakes, cookies and punch.
Just a few months ago, Mom broke her leg, so she spent several weeks recuperating and rehabbing at a Rehab Center in Arlington. By the time she left, the attendants there were heartbroken. Most of them were homesick young women from Haiti, Niger or some other distant land. Everyday, they would “check on her”, and hug her, and call her “Momma.” She knew all of their “stories.”
So, Mom passed away. Now she’s with Dad, my brother Mike (Frank) and Robby, her beloved sister, Irlene and her parents.
But that doesn’t mean I still don’t – and won’t – miss her a whole bunch. The last time we talked, the last thing she did was tell me she loved me and how “special” I am. We are all special, and she wanted everyone to know that.
Graveside service for Betty Jo will be Thursday, September 5, 2019 at 10AM at Emerald Hills Memorial Park in Kennedale.