Coming off from a couple of weeks with Ginger, I wasn't sure whether I wanted to write, in the spirit of Mother's Day, about her as the original 'Mommy' to the Notorious Fuzzybutts; or her inaugural Puppy Up! walk in Memphis; or what it was like to return to that place for the first time since I said goodbye to Murphy.
Then I realized I've only spoken of my own mother in brevity here and she deserves a lot more than that since she, in large part, made me the man I am.
Bobbye Robinson was born to Robert Kraft and Doris Allen, a smallish woman who was given the sobriquet 'Big Momma' which I can only assume so from tales about her fierce ability to wield a skillet, take a broom to an ornery bull, and wring a chicken's neck without flinching.
Mom grew up in their modest farm in Winnfield LA, a town whose sole distinction is the birthplace of Huey P Long, a fascinating man who was the American dictator who never was. According to T Harry Williams's account, Huey was the only man FDR was afraid of. If you're into history - read his book.
I only mention this because my mother was a woman who lived by, and given the opportunity, probably would have died by her political convictions as Huey Long did.
But family and her faith trumped politics and it was from my mother I learned about God's grace. My mother gave far more than she ever got but that never stopped her from giving. And not just to our family.
To the best of my knowledge she is still the only woman named 'Man of the Year' by the Belton Chamber of Commerce because of her contributions towards economic development in central Texas.
I've privately written that I got the brains for the walk from my father, the heart from my mother, and the balls - well that's all me.
But in truth, my mom had them all.
Happy Mother's Day.