I could go on forever writing about Aunt Bessie's amazing acts as a mother, caregiver, counselor, and most of all a friend; but one unforgettable inci...ent—though the decades have come and gone—remains forever fresh in my memory.I guess at this point, it's time for me to clear something up. I'm one of the few people who didn't call her Aunt Bessie.You see—the person everyone called Aunt Bessie—Well, I called her Mom.The Winter of 1938Winters in the Midwest are always bitter cold. That winter we. He was obviously quite proud of hishorse-sized cock. “Mom”, he said sheepishly.“Yes”, I replied trying to act nonchalant.“What do you think?” “What?” I said,“Do you think we could you know, do it?”“Alex!” I exclaimed. “I’ve never had sex with someoneso well hung, that thing would kill me! Besides, we’vegot to draw the line somewhere.”“I know mom, but my girlfriend wouldn’t do it with. We set up camp outside of town. JC took the family into town to shop and look around whilst Curtis and I greased the wagon wheels and performed the other small but vital tasks required to keep us moving. Saturday evening we all took a bath then stayed up late as I fiddled and we sang every song any of us could think of. Sunday morning we dressed up and went to church. The war had not been kind to the congregation of the Meridian Baptist Church as most of the women at the service were wrapped in. They do say that a girl looks prettiest when she is smiling, and at no time has it been more true than then. “Hey Louis, what do you study at LRU?” she asked me. “We are both planning to major in history and English,” Michael said. I told them that I wasn’t sure what I wanted to major in yet. Maybe go into engineering like my dad? Or become a high school teacher like my mom? I really wasn’t sure. “There’s still time to decide,” Michelle said. “Even though I say I want to major in English.