That's my mom there, in the middle.

That's her family, sisters and friends, sitting in front of the only house I ever really thought of as home. Her folks, standing there in the background, were the only grandparents I ever knew. That place is gone now, as are all but one of the people in this picture.



Mom has always loved a good time. Here's a crop from a larger picture, WW2 era, showing her in a beefcake pose. I love it! Skinny as hell, from hard work and good, natural food, cooked by my grandmother.



This is us, about 1962, taken at our place in Bermuda, where I was born. We've been close for a LONG time. 48 years. I admit it freely. I'm just a big mamma's boy.



I love this shot. My cousin Bob, who's 13 years older than me, tells people my mom was hot as hell back in the day, like Elizabeth Taylor. I love to hear him say that. I know I learned to love big breasted women partly from watching my mom walk down stairs. She and dad made a good pair, and built a good life together.

Of course, it wasn't all sweetness and light. Draggin' your kids across the world, one move after another, there was a lot of strain and conflict. It wasn't the life she was expecting, growing up on a farm in central Texas. But she and dad made a great life for themselves, and opened up a huge world for their kids, way beyond central Texas.



Today is mom's 81st birthday! Denise and I are gonna go over later and take her out to eat. She's chosen the OG, so that's what it'll be. We'll go to her place after and give her the presents we've bought, and she's promised to fix us some drinks. She'll tell us we shouldn't have spent the money on the presents, but that's the routine. I look forward to it. You know I love her to death. She's my rock.