Content Warning: Today's story centers around the loss of a family member. Reader and listener discretion is advised.

Bob McDonnell - The Open Window That April Morning

Shortly after leaving college, several of my friends decided to rent a house in the Lincoln Park area of Chicago, and invited me to join them. At the time I was starting my new job and career, and was also going to night school for my MBA. I had logical and understandable reasons for declining their offer, and so I did.

But also, and this is kinda hard to explain, but I really could have accepted their offer. The actual reason I chose to live at home was that I had a strong sense that I should be living at home with my Mom. She had lost her husband just two years previously, was starting her own career at St. Joe’s Hospital, and was also still coping with the still unfinished work of raising seven kids. She always seemed so tired to me, so worn out, that this sixth sense kept burning inside my mind, telling me to live at home and help my Mom.

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Carol Robson - It's A Girl

I was always a bit of a tomboy. I really didn’t like dolls or make up or pink dresses. I had a plastic bottle of purple bubble bath with an artificial flower glued to it that sat on the corner of my desk unused and collecting dust for years. It wasn’t my thing. I never learned to cook or bake; I had no interest. I didn’t take dance lessons . I did cartwheels and flips. I liked smashing little rocks into dust, playing in the dirt, rolling down grassy hills and riding my bike. I loved swinging on the monkey bars and playing tag. I liked mucking in the mud at the beach searching for wiggly creatures.

When I gave birth, I was relieved to have a boy, Lucas, and again, the second time, Geoffrey. I knew how to raise a boy. It came naturally to me. I was at home and comfortable with activities they liked to do. They were easy to dress and not fussy.

Later, when Jack came along- again, a boy! Yay! I had this. I could play hard, run and get dirty and make forts. We could practice burping the alphabet. This was right up my alley!

With Geoff and his wife, Laura, expecting, I heard the words “It’s a girl!” First I was so excited! Yay! A girl! Then, I thought - I don’t know what to do with a girl. It kind of scared me.

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Phyllis Saraceni - Memories Of My Mom

They told her she could never have children. So she showed them and had nine.

In my most painful teenage moments, when I hated her the most, I would accuse her of having nine kids just because she wanted to prove the doctors wrong. But, of course, I was wrong about her. She had us all because she loved children – hers and everyone else’s.

Ours was the house where all neighborhood kids were welcome. Anytime of the day or night. There was always a light on and there was always someone home.

When I was a kid I thought my Mom was a fairy princess. She wore high heels, dangly earrings, and tight pants and did the limbo like nobody’s business. She was beautiful and I wanted to be just like her. But somewhere between kid number nine and the harsh realities of everyday life, things changed.

I guess the absolute worst day was when my mother tried to kill herself. I was sixteen years old, the third of nine children. Mom was “Patsy” to her two older brothers, but most people knew her back in those days as Pat. Believe me when I tell you, she was an amazing woman. Beautiful, loving, graceful and mentally ill.

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