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.

(0) comments

Welcome to the discussion.

Keep it Clean. Please avoid obscene, vulgar, lewd, racist or sexually-oriented language.
Don't Threaten. Threats of harming another person will not be tolerated.
Be Truthful. Don't knowingly lie about anyone or anything.
Be Nice. No racism, sexism or any sort of -ism that is degrading to another person.
Be Proactive. Use the 'Report' link on each comment to let us know of abusive posts.
Share with Us. We'd love to hear eyewitness accounts, the history behind an article.