The thing I knew for sure about Mom is that she knew everything.  Or, at least, she knew whatever I needed to know.  I think most of all she knew how to love me.  She knew how to nurture and support and encourage me—and all four of us girls.  I loved how we all had our own toys or household items in our assigned “favorite” colors.  Of course, she already knew that I liked blue best, and it’s still my favorite color.  

One year for Christmas we all got big stuffed dogs we could sit on.  Another year we all got kitty cat chairs.  Every year I loved decorating the reindeer cookies with icing eyes and collars.  For Easter we always got pretty new dresses—and shoes and socks and pocketbooks and maybe spring coats or sweaters and even hats when we were little.  I know we looked adorable, because I remember people telling us we did.  “And no boys?” they sometimes said to us.  “No boys!” I would reply proudly.  No yucky boys, I always thought. 

I remember our trip to New York City when Kate insisted on going through the lobby of our real hotel with her enormous Cecil the Seasick Sea Serpent wrapped around her.  I think Mom was a little embarrassed, but we never saw anything wrong with it.  New York was just one of the fascinating places she and Daddy took us.  I loved seeing the US on our family vacations—even when, as a money-saving measure, she made us switch to camping and I cried at the prospect.  All our adventures together around Europe were especially sweet.  She and Daddy just let me and Maurice be in charge and take them wherever we wanted to go.  

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