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Mother

Whenever I knew that mother was coming to visit us I would go into a state that I can only describe as emotional shock. My rib cage would get so tight I couldn't easily breath. It would feel like I'd been put in a tight steel corset. My legs would lose their feeling. I could barely move one foot in front of the other. John would insist I go outside and get some air and keep trying to walk. I don't know if the moving or John's concern helped me the most. But we could get the shock to lift before my parents arrived.

It was amazing to me that none of our children noticed this bazaar. But there was always so much stuff happening that perhaps this was just more stuff to them.

So I was happy that they never recognized my weird ness. And I didn't think it necessary to tell them. Or any other members of our family. This was the person who gave me life. Why did my body react in this strange way? I was ashamed. I was embarrassed.

'Why couldn't I just accept my mother's visits graciously?' was the torment that each experience brought.

Yvonne, called Bonnie by us as a child, Bon and our family angel by us as an adult. And her husband Bob Armantrout and their children always managed to find a place for our parents, after Dad's condition became obvious. Mother's outspokeness often caused them embarrassments. But they just kept hanging in there and made it work, graciously. They will always be blessed in my mind and heart for this greatest gift to our family.