The piece I wrote on my Mother was when I saw a contest in some magazine about writing articles on our Moms for of course Mother’s Day. So I wrote this but never won anything. And that’s okay, because I won the biggest gift of all… having Gertrude as my Mother.
Having written on Mom figured I had to write something for Dad, so the “Storyteller” piece I wrote and gave to him.
Both pieces were written years ago when they were both alive. I sit here now retyping to enter on my blog. And yes, the tears are trickling down my face as I type. And yes, I would give anything when I’m caught in problems to hear my Mom say once again, “Just give it time,” or to hear Dad ask a waitress that stupid “Did you have to go to school to learn how to do this?”