|Grace Guerrant Gabbard Collins, My Mother|
(Marvin Sullivan in his recent poignant piece entitled, “Mother,” said he sometimes calls his wife, “Mother” because she is in some ways a Mother to him, particularly after losing his birth Mother at a very early age. This is not meant to diminish Marvin’s explanation, but I have a friend who calls his wife, “Mother.” When I queried him as to why, he said that he forgets names easily and he was afraid he might forget her name; therefore, to be safe, he just calls her “Mother.”)
My Mother lived to be 90 and was laid out at Deaton’s Funeral Home, 15 years ago this past February. Family and friends had been notified of her demise and her extended family gathered in to show their last respects. It was not an unhappy occasion, for Mother had lived a long and rich life and had spent the last five years in Sayre Christian Village / Nursing Home in Lexington. Even in the Nursing Home she adjusted well and made friends with other patients, some in worse physical shape than she.
To read the rest of this article please subscribe or sign in