…is all I have left from the woman who, for the most part, raised me in my earliest years:

The backstory? My birth father abandoned my mother and me before I left the womb. My grandmother [who we called ‘Ma moo’ because some cousin that went before me couldn’t say Grandma]  and my maternal relatives rushed in to fill the gap. My mother worked as an administrative assistant to support my grandmother and me in my earlier years. This note was written around the time I was 3 or 4 when my mom met and married my dad and we moved out to start a life of our own. Today, on the 34th anniversary of her death with tears in my eyes I remember this remarkable woman and the sacrifices she made for me…

It was only last year on this day I learned that when she was married to my alcoholic grandfather there was a time when she left him and put her 4 children up for adoption to protect them from the horrible abuses at home — abuses so bad that my uncles later enlisted in WWII preferring to fight the Japanese and Germans to living with their own father. My grandmother, however, reconsidered out of a deep and abiding love for her children and went back to my grandfather despite the verbal and physical abuse. The number 4 is significant because my mother is the 5th child in the family and she was conceived after my grandmother put the family back together. In a very real way, I would not be here if not for her courage in the face of overwhelming adversity…

Today and every day I thank God for the gift of this courageous woman in my life. There are so many happy memories of early life with her — to this day when I feel happy, I sometimes crave a Cherry Coke. Why? When I was a good boy she took me to the soda fountain and rewarded me with one. This note — 50 years old this year — hangs in my home office and is a constant reminder of her loving presence in my life then, now and always!