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They were Mother’s Day breakfasts in bed that only a mother could love. My two brothers, sister and I would carry up a tray with nearly burned toast, runny scrambled eggs and instant coffee. It was not a trick, but it certainly wasn’t a treat either. Yet, Mother smiled and appreciated the love behind the gesture.

I cannot say that we were always appreciative of all she did for us. She brought us into the world. She fed us great food, made almost all of my sister’s clothes and took her sons clothes shopping whether we wanted to or not.

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