> Thank you Leslie and Barbara for sharing such personal memories. Isn't it wonderful what Vee is doing for us. > > Sending ((hugs )) out to each of you. > > Evelyn in sunny, Spring like Maine --> Hi to everyone, Have really been amazed and delighted seeing all the messages about hugging and degree of being "comfortable" with it. You folks are the "best" - sharing as you do - and yes, you too Vee for starting all this with your mother story! :) I remember when my grandfather was dying of cancer - we had him in a hospital bed in the den at our house. This was the early 1960s. (He died in 1963). I was 12 and had enjoyed a very close relationship with him. But, he wasn't a "touchy feely" sort of man. He had been a carpenter all his life - a fisherman - a fireman - a "quiet" man. But, there were so many "close moments" earlier on - sometimes just "sitting together" or digging up worms together! (smile). Well, in the days he was in that bed, not in the best of moods always, I would sit beside him. My "job" was to "fold kleenex" for him. Now looking back - we all know he no more needed that to be done than the man in the moon. But then? It made us BOTH feel good, you know? No big HUGS or anything - but I'll never forget the times sitting there - folding away - then just sitting - his big rough hand over the top of mine. Deb (Who has in turn led a life where touching, showing emotions and yes, lots of hugs, are not only "there" - but valued as ever so IMPORTANT in this life. Interesting how these things change. What's INSIDE hasn't changed much I'd imagine over all the decades - just what we show on the "outside".)

Dear Deb, You certainly touched my heart when you told us about you and your grandfather when he was terminally ill. Somehow, it reminded me of what I remember about my mother not wanting to show tears in front of anyone. Back in 1958, my father died when he was 54. Mother was the same age. I had flown from California to where they were living in Houston to be there for his final days in the hospital. Since the family had been alerted that Daddy had only a few days to live, Mother decided to make the necessary plans before hand. She took his best suit to the cleaners and the two of us went shopping for a somber dress for her to wear at the funeral. She showed no emotion whatsoever. After his death and his viewing in Houston, his body was shipped to nearby Harrisburg, PA, for burial. Our family drove the long long drive from Houston to Harrisburg. During the drive I was puzzled at her lack of showing any emotions and at one point I had to test her on the subject. The radio was on and the song "Among My Souvenirs" was playing. I asked her if the song reminded her of her own "souvenirs." No it didn't. She never shed a tear. In the 1960s when she had moved back to New York to live with my sister Norma, Mother and I would get on the phone together and have great chats. I remember one time that she told me what had been bothering her lately. She said that the slightest thing would bring her to tears. I laughed and said, "Welcome to the club!" I had become the same way too. By 1974 she had had several strokes that left her bedridden and also without the ability to talk. A few months before she died that year both my brother and I flew to New York to see just what her condition was. We realized it wasn't good. We all tried to cheer her up and sometimes we even managed to. One night my brother and sister and I got in a giggly mood in another room. I left the giggling for a few minutes and went to Mother's bedside. I told her that I knew that what I had to say would bring tears to her eyes that she wouldn't like for me to see but I didn't care. I was going to say it anyway. I told her that she had raised three great kids and that the three of us loved her very much. As hard as she tried she couldn't let at least a few tears show in her eyes. Yes she loved us too and we knew it. It's just that she just couldn't tell us or show us just how much she did. Mother died at the age of 70 (1903-1974). vee