Not quite a century

My mother, Helen LaBar, would have been 100 years old today. She didn't quite make that milestone. Above is a photo of her sons (I am on the left, and I am the oldest) taken with her 95th birthday cake. At that time, she was living at home, with a little assistance.

All of us are products of our ancestors, one way or another. Sometimes, as in the neat freak who grew up in a messy house, we act opposite to our ancestors. I owe much of my love for music to my parents, my love of fantastic literature mostly to my father, my love of teaching mostly to my mother, and I won't bore you with any other characteristics, some of which may be all too apparent from reading this blog.

I posted Mom's obituary earlier, but I thought that another tribute would be in order.

Thanks for reading. The photo is a link to the on-line original. No password is needed to see it, or my 1400+ other Flickr photos, most of which are not of people.