A Personal Note

On this important date in my life, my mother was born in 1924. Although her parents were told that she would never see her 18th birthday, she persisted in living until August 22, 2001. Mom endured and fought back against leukemia her entire life. She suffered through a lifetime of treatments, pills, transfusions, and my teenage years in defiance of her diagnosis. On the date of my arrival into this world, she was 40 years old. Having two daughters of my own, I cannot fathom her state of mind in adding a new son at that age! Luckily for me, she was a strong woman.

She always claimed that we had a severe winter storm every year on her birthday, and. . . .here we are. It's normally an ice storm, but perhaps Mom's taking it easy on me this year. It would be her way to ease the road ahead for me and to defend me to the very end. There is no greater truth, at least in my experience, that a mother's love is unconditional. You might call her a "doting mother", or "over-protective"; I called her "Mom".

And I miss her. The above picture is Mom shepherding me along to my first day of school at Lafayette Elementary School. In 2005, my wife snapped a picture of our oldest daughter in the same scenario, a mere few miles from this locale and in the same old school district. Samantha was 18 months old when she lost her grandma - she doesn't remember her. But she still takes a present from her to bed with her every night.

Mom had purchased a Thumbelina Doll for Sam as a Christmas present the year that she died. It has served as a bond between Mom, Sam, and I ever since. Good night Mom. We miss you. . .