Yesterday my mother would have been 94--if she hadn't died in September. I thought about her a lot. February 11, 1917 must have been exciting for Neil and Pearl, her parents. Their first child, a cheery, round-faced little bundle. And she must have been a satisfaction to them throughout their lives. She was adventurous--went from Chicago to Albuquerque in 1935 to attend college. She was so talented--played the piano beautifully, sewed all her clothes, including dress coats and suits. She married a good man and had three children they did their best to raise well. She was curious--I can't even fathom the vast store of knowledge she has in her head. Near the end of her life, Karen told her of a way to relieve stress and anxiety--bilateral tapping. After she died, I found a small slip of paper on which she had written the scientific name for bilateral tapping. She wanted to know. One of her frequent responses to "why" was, "I'm just curious." And she was. That curiosity kept her alive and healthy and optimistic throughout her life. I miss her.
