A man loves his sweetheart the most, his wife the best, but his mother the longest. ~Irish Proverb
My mother, Virginia, died at an early age, 58, from breast cancer. I was 31. My biggest regret was she would never get to see her grandchildren grow up and have children of their own. She would have really spoiled them. I know because she spoiled her own kids, then proceeded to do the same with mine with the limited time she had with them. She always said that the young should have all the nice things in the world. I think she used this thinking as a way of denying herself so as to pamper us. So much of this was actually accomplished by cooking our favorite meals rather than shopping. There's so much about her that I miss.
This is Easter Sunday, 1955. The picture was taken in Las Vegas, New Mexico. Don't you love the 'snapshot quality'. We used to get little red photo books from the drugstore where the film was developed.
I'm on the left. I was about 6 1/2 years old. My sister, Margaret, on the right is about 8 years old. We were brought up like "quasi-twins". To this day, we're still twin-like. My parents were quite the dressers, don't you agree?
