Nell
Happy Birthday Nell
​
They say some people are born to shine. Nell doesn't just shine — she sparkles.
​
She is the baby of the family, and she lights up every room she enters. Raised in Ellville, Georgia, where life during the Depression wasn't easy and money was never plentiful, Nell learned early what truly matters — and it isn't things. It's people. It's laughter. It's love. In her youth, strangers would mistake her for Leslie Uggams. But her smile is even more beautiful. She followed her sister Marge to Syracuse in her early twenties. She worked the GM assembly line as a molding inspector — a woman who knows exactly what quality looks like and never settles for anything less.
It was 1967 when a man named Ezel spotted her on the third shift line and thought to himself, I'd like to meet that girl. Life had other plans. A layoff separated them, and a full year passed. When Nell returned to work, Ezel was her supervisor. One night, working third shift, he leaned over and said simply, "Call me." She went home. She couldn't find his name. She searched that phonebook up and down — and there wasn't a single Cookie in it. The next day, Ezel looked at her and said, "I thought you were gonna call me." She's been working for him ever since.
​
She is the gentle force that balances him out. Married to Ezel for 57 years, she has the softer touch — but don't be fooled. Nell is no pushover. She raised her children with a clear message: I'll give you a chance to make it right. But if you don't, you will pay the price. She doesn't just love her children — she shapes them. She is a natural teacher. Behind the wheel of a blue Chevelle Malibu — with sexy headlights — she tells Ezel she can beat him on the road. He replies, "Only on the pickup." She grins and floors it anyway.
​
Simple things make her happy. An elegant Barbie doll case. Country folk in rocking chairs. Collectible choirs. Elephants. A beautiful dress that makes her smile when she catches her reflection. A good pound cake, a chocolate cake, a pineapple coconut white cake — and the special one she makes just for Ezel Jr, cuts in half and tucks in the freezer, because that's what love looks like in practice. She loves Michelle Obama and Larry Bird. After Larry retired, she never stopped cheering for the Celtics and most nights she will be home enjoying basketball. She loved bowling and playing Bingo faithfully — and when she wins a bag of chips, she doesn't eat them. She donates them to the Y food box, because growing up in the Depression taught her not to waste. She is generous that way. Always giving.
She has faced things that would break most people — and she battles her way back every time, as strong as ever. She fights for what matters.
​
Her sense of humor? Legendary. She makes a hand gesture — you know the one — and says, "You know what this is?" You don't know. There it goes again. She tells corny jokes with a completely straight face and then laughs louder than anyone else in the room. When her cousin Margaret was cleaning the kitchen and the cabinet door swings open, Nell says simply, "Watch out — I don't want you to break that cabinet door." The room erupted in laughter. That's Nell, joking and a smile with family. You can talk to her about anything. She listens. She doesn't judge. She shares. Around people she knows, she is sociable, vibrant, talkative, and funny — a bright ray of light, just like her mother Rose, named after a beautiful flower.
​
Whether you call her Ma, Big Ma, Wife, Mother, or just Nell — tell her you love her, and she will give you her stock answer every single time:
​
"Love you more."
​
Happy 80th birthday, Nell. You give more than you'll ever know, and you make everyone around you better just by being exactly who you are.