Emma Louise Foley Hancock was her name, but everyone called her Sue. At first glance you would not consider her to be athletic. She was a housewife who cooked, cleaned, sewed, knitted, and cared for her three children. She always had a sewing or knitting project in the works. She made us sweaters, toboggans, sport coats and she even made the jacket that dad wore as a captain with Eastern Airlines. I remember when polyester was in style, she made me a sport coat that would have been the envy of any polyester wearer. If your sock had a hole in it, she would darn it. If the knee was worn out of your jeans, she would cut the seam, install an internal patch, fix the seam and you would never know that it wasn’t that way all along. This was much better than the iron on patches that other kids wore. I am not sure what she would think about today’s trend of cutting holes in your jeans on purpose, but I am sure she would take it in stride. That was her nature, always looking for the good in everything. Her smile was beautiful and her attitude toward her Christ-filled life was always positive, even through a long battle with cancer.

 She was very agile and fleet of foot. Mama was a dancer. She could tap dance as good as anyone you have seen on the Lawrence Welk show or in the movies. She would teach the neighborhood girls how to dance and to do the Charleston. I remember when I was little, Aunt Sis’s father had a two seat Nash Rambler and Mama and Aunt Sis would take it to the store. I had to ride in the back behind the seats. The car had a radio and they would tune it in to a favorite song and dance all the way to town. It is a wonder that the floor boards didn’t fall out.

  Later on when my children were young, we had a small Honda trail bike. All the kids were riding it. I don’t think it ever stopped except to refuel. We lived in the country and there were plenty of old logging roads to ride on. Mama watched everyone ride the trail bike day after day. Finally she said that she wanted to try it. We all said no, but she would tell us how good she could ride a bike. This discussion went on for several weeks until finally I decided to show her how to ride it.

  Turn this handle to go, squeeze these levers to stop, don’t worry about shifting gears because you are only going to the end of the side walk and stop. She said she understood as she prepared for her maiden voyage. Suddenly she twisted the handle all the way and the bike took off. The shock of the sudden start sent her off course and instead of heading down the sidewalk she was now headed for the brick chimney. I chased after her to no avail. I got to the scene just as Mama was bouncing off the chimney. She had a bruise or two but was not seriously injured. She smiled, but did not say anything. We never offered to let Mama ride the trail bike again. But more importantly, she never asked.