Calling Her Blessed.
On Father's Day last year, I wrote this entry about my dad. It seemed only fair that this year my mom would get some attention. I'm the youngest of four - two boys, two girls -- by quite a bit. My siblings are 7, 9, and 11 years older than me, which of course means I'm the favorite. :-) Not really. But it does mean that I got to have Mom to myself a little more than the others. Just a few quick memories: Running lines for my various plays Listening to her sing in church Wishing my fingernails were long and pretty like hers Watching her take care of my baby girl when we came home from the hospital Fish sticks and french fries on Wednesday nights Endless games - card games, board games, dominos For the longest time, if I had to pick a word to describe my mom, I would have chosen "soft." Her skin was soft, and she had a gentle personality - at least that's how it seemed to me. It could have been in contrast to my dad, who was outgoing and louder, a...