My mother is dying. Her name is Luella. She was a kind and loving mother and a beautiful and amazing woman in every way. When she was still a teenager she met my father, Andrew, fell in love and loved him her whole life. They were nineteen when they married, too young, a product of the war that engulfed America and took all the young men away to be soldiers, sailors and marines, while all the young women stayed home, wrote letters and prayed.
The most horrific day in my mother’s life was the day my father was killed in an accident. He was just 45 years old. Although she built a full and active life afterward, losing him colored her world forever. I truly hope they find each other again soon.