Yesterday, an older man stopped by my office to pay a bill and ask a question his wife wanted answered.  He needed more information from her, so he called her on his cell phone, on speaker phone.  When she answered the call, he started by saying “Mother, I’m here at….”

    His tone of voice was exactly the same as my late Grandpa Don’s when he addressed my late Grandma Wanda as “Mother”.  The conversation kept going between them and my service technician but in my head, I heard Grandma scolding Grandpa that she wasn’t his mother, and him responding that she was the mother of his children.

    The whole thing just made me want to spread peanut butter across a piece of warm toast and watch the noon news on that tiny TV while an assortment of aunts and uncles filtered through on their lunch breaks.