My mother was a woman of hope. We would talk and she would share them with me. Mainly they were hopes for me. She wanted a “better world” and she wanted it for her children. Born in the middle of the great depression. Everyone, including her husband, off at war. Surely there was a better way. She worked hard to make sure we could have it.
Youth fades; love droops; the leaves of friendship fall; A mother’s secret hope outlives them all.” —Oliver Wendell Holmes
