We buried my mom this week. After a sudden, unexpected diagnosis of terminal cancer, we brought her home from the hospital to spend her remaining days with family and friends. The Grace Hospice nurses were truly angels in disguise giving us support and guidance, and treating my mom with dignity and compassion.
In preparation for the funeral service, the priest asked my sisters and me to reflect on the memories we have of our childhood. I always knew my mom met my dad when she was a cashier at Mehornay Furniture in Kansas City. My paternal grandmother wouldn’t let them get married until my mom turned 18, so they were married on Nov 10 at St Aloysuis Church, just a little over one month after her birthday. 
When I was 12, my mom and dad opened a drapery shop. They weren’t very good business people, spending more time at the shop than at home and not charging enough to meet expenses; but for two years, they made the best drapes in town. My sisters and I liked going to work with them, because their workroom was located right next door to a doughnut shop.
My mom loved to travel with my dad to his summer railway mail conventions. In 1965, they were in Miami Beach when hurricane Cleo hit. They spent the night in the hotel bathroom, and the next day discovered their car completely underwater. I can still remember the smell of salt and rotten seaweed when they drove the car home. They were able to trade that car in for a brand new station wagon, complete with skylight windows in the roof above the back seat. As a kid, I thought that was the coolest car.
We had a cabin at the Lake of the Ozarks my mom inherited when her father died. We used to go there on weekends during the summers bringing lots of friends from high school and college. The cabin only had two beds - one for my uncle and one for my mom and dad. The rest of us slept in sleeping bags on the floor, but my mom always had a strict rule - girls to the left of the kitchen table and boys to the right.
I think the thing I remember the most about my mom was her selfless devotion to her family. She loved to make a big deal out of birthdays and holidays – lavish dinners with our favorite foods and presents that always included something she made herself. When I was 14 years old, I told my mom I was too old for an Easter basket, so she bought me a Russell Stover’s box of chocolates instead. I decided I didn’t like it nearly as well. So even though my sisters and I are in our 50’s, my mom still makes us an Easter basket every year.
