My parents were born exactly two years and one week apart. My mom was the older woman, so scandalous! Last Thursday would have been my dad’s 97th birthday and I reprinted some excerpts about him from my book My Pineapples Went to Houston. Today would have been my mom’s 99th birthday–she made it all the way to 96–and she was definitely NOT one to tolerate being slighted, so here’s my tribute to her that was published on Mothers Always Write. Happy birthday, Mommy. I still “wanchoo.” And thanks to Mothers Always Write for publishing my essay.

Consolation Baby

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