She was very outgoing and warm, someone who could walk onto a stage, face an auditorium of people, tell an off the cuff joke—and have the whole room rolling. She was incredibly kind, and many didn’t know just how kind, because she did things quietly; never spoke about it.

I had a friend who did my hair in the 80s, and I referred him to Mom, and she began going to him. Sometimes we went together, other times separately.

After I was widowed, I moved out of the area and lost touch.
What he didn’t confide was that he’d become HIV positive and was dying. He came out to his family, who promptly disowned him. My mother visited him in hospice and ran errands for him. She got permission from him to let me know, and we were with him when he passed away.

I played the piano because she did, and our favorite thing was to play duets, and arrangements for two pianos (there was a baby grand in the living room, and we’d roll the upright in from the family room).

I inherited more of her features than the other kids: her dark, dark (nearsighted) eyes, her laugh, and a quieter version of her warm speaking voice. I’ll miss her forever. 🥹

She was cajun with that heavy Louisiana accent who spoke French only when she was angry.When i heard my middle name followed by yeh i knew i was in trouble. She died when i was 18. She was full of love full of life , very classy i never saw her in casual clothes she was always dressed in slacks, blouses, and dresses, never wore a pair of jeans. and i parent my 2 children in a way that would make her proud. She never drank, smoke, so i dont either.

Because your best which is all we can ask of anybody. She wasn't bad she probably wasn't the greatest but she provided a roof and food and she struggled along the way. But then again I probably wasn't the best son but I tried my best.

Pragmatic romantic. First in her family to go to college and considered a slacker for doing so. Then fell in love with a man still living in the 19th century, and shucked her dreams of being an independent, empowering teacher before the term feminist was created to return to the stereotypical housewife, mother, field worker of the times and a marriage of nearly 60 years. Survived the Great Depression, WWII, two children who died in infancy, and a third that was bed-ridden for four years requiring her to become a caregiver. Only to return to teaching when her husband could no longer work and a long teaching career spanning five different decades, with many a student returning or writing, to tell her how she had made a difference in their lives as a primary grade teacher. She never lost her vision of better things while at the same time doing whatever was necessary to survive and take care of her husband and family.

My mom was 1/2 Cherokee Indian. She was beautiful and the best Mother in the world. My parents and 3 siblings were killed by a drunk driver when I was 17 years old.

An absolutely wonderful woman who tolerated a lot in the name of love.

She was a beautiful woman and a great Mom.

She was a narcissist. She needed attention. Eventually, I was disowned. The pupil becoming smarter than his teacher wasn’t something she couldn’t easily tolerate.

Blood isn’t always thicker than water. You need water to survive.

Distant. I wouldn't have a relationship with her if I didn't do all the work.

A wisp of goodwill to everyone.

A woman who was so impossible to live with she wound up alone.

dysfunctional

a saint

Annoying

Dead

Narcissistic