My Mother

This is a small picture of my mother, taken when she was 12 or 13 years old. She was pretty all of her life, right down to the very last. Wow!

I like this picture because of the smile. This was a very bad time in her life. It was taken when she lived with her mother in Ft. Worth. Horror stories abound during this period. She soon went back to live with her grandparents where she received lots of love and family identity.

I also like this picture because I can see my two daughters in it. It is sometimes hard to see resemblances between grandparents and grandchildren because of the physical changes in the grandparents: hair (or none), wrinkles, etc. But in this picture I can see physical resemblances of my daughters, and I can see personality resemblances.

The one thing about your parents passing away is you get no more answers to your questions. You just have to scan your own memory in hopes that something was said at some time or other, and if so, you hope you are able to bring enough of it up to make some sense and answer your questions.

This pictures brings up some of those questions, presently unanswered. But it also just puts a nice smile on my face, and in my heart.

I still love you, Mother.