My mother had a cleft palate.  It was fixed when she was three years-old, and you could never tell anything was wrong by looking at her, but it left her with two impediments: her speech and her mother.

May is a special month for me: Everest and Mother’s Day. The connection is significant.

I summited Everest in May and Mother’s Day, well, it is Mother's Day.

Ida Arnette, my mom, was the memory keeper for her extended family. With my mom’s eight brothers and sisters, there was a lot to track. 

Mom did it all while raising two sons, working full time and still finding time to cook amazing holiday dinners and an out-of-this world pecan pie.

As a little girl in what is now North Korea, my mother, Bock Sill, watched as the communist regime dragged away her grandmother to kill her. In the horror, she found strength.  She relied on that strength as she fled to South Korea during the Korean War. She used that strength to find a job, meet my father, Tae Hun, and immigrate to the United States to provide a better life for her children. Today, she relies on that strength to care for my father, who has Alzheimer’s disease. 

With another Mother’s Day approaching I can only feel blessed that my mom is still alive and still able to know who I am. For me each day begins with phoning her, because I am a long distance caregiver. Just yesterday I asked if she wanted to speak with me. Her sweet reply was, of course she wants to speak to me, “ for I am her daughter and she loves me.”  As she shared her words and sentiments with me, it brought such warmth to my heart and filled my eyes with tears.

Chicken Little was in the woods. A seed fell on his tail. Chicken Little said, The sky is falling.” So he ran to tell the king and everyone in the kingdom.

Dear Abby: I have always wanted to have my family history traced, but I can’t afford to spend a lot of money to do it. Have you any suggestions? — M. J. B. in Oakland, Calif.

Dear M. J. B.: Yes. Run for a public office.

Such was the incisive wit of Pauline Friedman Phillips, known to millions as Dear Abby. Affectionately nicknamed “Popo” by friends, Dear Abby was the advice maven of a generation – or rather, generations.

Dear Abby: Are birth control pills deductible? — Bertie

Dear Bertie: Only if they don’t work.