Our family belonged to a golf course in Swanton and I enjoyed being out there playing golf, and as I got older, working in the dining room.
Then things changed. Mom wasn't feeling well. I was only about eight, so I really don't remember things all that well.
I just remember when I was maybe, 11 or 12, maybe even younger, hearing the dreaded word "cancer" and hearing my mom crying at night.
There were surgeries, chemo, and an early form of radiation, "radioactive isotopes" I remember.
I remember times when the only thing she wanted to eat was homemade tapioca pudding as nothing else tasted good at all.
There were times when she wanted to play golf, but couldn't because she didn't feel well. Then the time came when she couldn't ride in the golf cart because of being afraid the bumps and jarring would break her bones. By that time, what had been breast cancer had gone to her bones.
Mom and Dad celebrated their 15th wedding anniversary August 2, 1962. Mom had been in the hospital and so wanted to be home so Dad brought her home. I remember her on the sofa and Dad saying he needed to take her back as her lips and fingers were turning blue due to lack of oxygen. It was now in her lungs.
Mom lived two more months, dying October 2nd.
She was 34.
Miss you still, Mom.