My parents were often told that I was a precocious child, not that they needed to be told. I didn’t always know why it was important to do something, but somehow I knew that some things had to be done. I was unusually eager to please but of course, I had no idea about consequences.
This story concerns my mother’s 35th birthday as told to me by various family members over the years. A few years earlier my father had gotten a new job at a company on Cape Cod and not too long after that they had picked out a nice house in a small town. There was a bit of land with the house and my mother, originally from Newark, Ohio, loved to work in her flower gardens around the house. There were always flower and gardening catalogues around the house and now they could afford to put…
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