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My mother was born on Good Friday 1918.  Her birthday would fall on Good Friday once more during her lifetime – 1991.  Today would have been her 95th birthday, but sadly she died on March 2 ten years ago.

Even at her birth she had to make a statement.   Her mother was being attended by a midwife, but the first thing to appear was her hand and they had to call for the doctor.  She had her hand over her forehead, foreshadowing her flair for drama.  The doctor asked to be her godfather and on the day of her baptism he gave her two U.S. quarters predicting that she would never want for money and that she would marry a doctor.  Predictions that came to pass – she married a doctor and although she went through some hard times, especially when she came from Cuba after my father died and was responsible for four teenagers, she was always able to provide for us.

She could be extremely dramatic when delivering bad news.  But she also had the gift of making people laugh and no one could tell an amusing story the way she did.  Her anecdotes live on and she is missed terribly by those who had the privilege of knowing her.

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“Everything passes away. At the evening of life, only love remains.” -Blessed Elizabeth of the Trinity

My love for my mother remains as strong as ever.  May she be at peace and entertaining angels with her stories.

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