Mother and I spent a few days in Haddonfield, New Jersey, visiting with friends and relatives on the occasion on her eighty-second birthday. Haddonfield is a wonderful place to visit.  Everything is in walking distance.  We walked miles seeing all the sights, restaurants, and shops. We took the opportunity to attend a meeting at the Friends Meeting on Sunday.  I thought Mother understood how meetings worked.  We filed in and took our places in the lovely old meeting house.  Mother leaned over to whisper something as soon as we were seated.  I gestured there was no talking, so Mother, a staunch Southern Baptist, sat waiting for the services to start. Worshipers sat quietly meditating as Mother looked increasingly puzzled.  Finally, she let me know she was ready to leave after about twenty minutes.  She had a little difficulty understanding no talking in church.  That twenty minutes was the longest I’ve…

Having attended a tiny rural high school, fearing I could never compete with those from large urban high schools, I was sensitive about my educational shortcomings. Expecting to be labeled a bumpkin and hustled back to the farm “with my own kind,” in my mind, I had gotten to college with little to recommend me but a good vocabulary, a love of

My mother found this hilarious letter among her things today.  My grandmother was in a foul mood when she wrote it.  I recalled this weekend like it was yesterday when I read the letter.  Grandma was nosy.  She like to get right behind Daddy, quizzing him about his business and his family.  He wasn’t a patient man.  That certainly didn’t endear her to