For those who read my previous post about my mother, I'd like to add one more thing. The older I get, the more she astounds me, looking back. Having raised children, and battled some minor mood swings myself, I simply can't imagine how she did it. It's hard enough being a single mother if one has normal bouts of depression or whatever. She ( Read more... )

My sisters and I had names growing up - Meg, Mary, and Marti. But we were collectively referred to as "Marilyn's Girls" by the rest of the family. It was said in a lowered voice with a certain tone. In the midst of a conversation about planning a bridge party, one of my grandmother's friends would ask with concern, "And how are Marilyn's girls ( Read more... )