So, you know what day it is. What do you plan to do about it?

For me, it’ll be just memories. But I have plenty of those, always beginning with — brother, could she sew. This was important for a son constantly blowing out the seams of pants.

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I was touched by Arthur Paul Bowen’s column in the Democrat-Gazette this morning about singing favorite hymns to his dying mother. I sang my mother out of this world about 10 years ago with the last little ditty that she could summon as dementia advanced — “Take Me Out to the Ballgame.”

UPDATE: With rain keeping me off the streets this morning, I had to go to the scrapbook for Mother’s Day-inspired memory trolling and the photo. (I should have also said she had beautiful hand-writing.)

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