On Mother's Day

I lost my mother a month ago today. At the time of my last post, her health began to go south with a sickeningly rapid trajectory downward. She died on April 12 at 6:15 a.m.

I've still been reading, but the process of grief can be cruel and specific and I can't quite focus my mind on recounting what I've read.

In her honor, I'd like to re-post a blog entry I wrote a few years ago. Mom was no bookworm, but she knew I was a big fan of the "Little House" series, so she buckled down and read all the books, detailing her progress in a series of emails.

 She continued to refer to the books for the rest of her life, and although she didn't mention it in her emails, she was indignant about the part in The Long Winter in which Pa goes over to visit Almanzo and his brother and eats pancakes then returns home and eats the meager meal Ma has prepared, never letting on that he had pancakes while he was out. Our revisiting of this usually revolved around our trips to IHOP.

My mom was a champion at shopping and bought me countless gifts over my lifetime, but this was one of the best I ever received. I can imagine her snort and the skeptical raised eyebrow in response to that statement.

Thank you again, Judy Sue Stouffer Thomas 1938-2019.

Mom's a Bonnethead!