When Gramma passed away Friday, Sept. 6, 2018, a realization hit home pretty hard. She was the last of my maternal figures that I knew, growing up. I must be hard on those who I’ve known as such.

 

 

 

 

My real mother, Betty Faye, left us in 1976.

 

Her mother, Frances, my grandmother, left us in 1975.

 

The lady I first knew as my Aunt Lillie but grew calling Mom left us in 2008, more than a decade ago now.

 

 

 

Gramma Viola’s passing this week make four.

And thankfully, that doesn’t even begin to count the ones along that ‘other’ side of my family tree, the ones who may be blood kin but folks I never got to know well. I’m aware that many a funeral has taken place involving real blood relatives of mine in recent years. Of course, I can hardly take credit for them, having not been around them much. Ever. Still, to have worn out the four I did in the time that I did it in, I must’ve been true hell on mothers.