My mom was impressive. When I was 11, very late at night (ok 1am) after waiting up for her to get home from her second-shift job, I asked her to fill me in on this birds-and-bees business.
(No internet to look up such things like nowadays, in the 70s information was much harder to come by, especially if you were younger.)
So, as tired as she was, she just sighed and pulled a pad of paper over and started to sketch out, from memory, a human uterus, and used that to explain the whole deal. So that's the sort of mother I had: talented enough to be able to sketch a womb properly, from memory; willing to spend time to teach her daughter in the middle of the night after work; intelligent enough to remember the details of human reproduction, with no warning.
(You might think 11 is a bit young but I was precocious and an avid reader, well into books intended for adults already, such as 'The Good Earth' and 'Forever Amber' to name a couple.)
Love you mom, I miss you and your laughter often.
Mary (Molly) Davisson 8/21/1934 - 5/28/2012
