A tribute to my sweet Grandmother who loved Johnny Mathis. A twin and one of eight children, she grew up in rural Maryland on a farm that still had an outhouse. Her mother died of tuberculosis when she was a teenager. She helped run the farm and raise her younger siblings.
After marriage and having four boys, including twins, her husband was diagnosed with throat cancer. She learned how to use a feeding tube (a second belly button they joked) to nourish his failing frail body.
To provide for their family she served on the line of a school cafeteria. Before daylight her middle son (my Dad) rode her there on the handle bars of his bicycle.
I can’t recall her ever raising her voice. Just the opposite, when I acted out, she got somber and quietly explained what I did to upset her and why it was wrong, in…
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