This might be hard to believe, but some times we (sons) weren't little angels. My Dad always had Mom's back. When we pushed too far or misbehaved, she only needed to use the line "wait until your Father gets home". Mom and Dad worked well as a team raising us. I always felt loved, cared for and had the things I needed.    

When I was in seventh grade we had a blizzard in MN.  I played hockey and had a practice scheduled that day.  Mom or Dad called Mr. Schmeideberg to see if practice was still on.  It was.  Mom asked me if I still wanted to go.  I said "yes I have to practice".  Mr. Schmeideberg lived about 3 blocks away and agreed to drive due to having a van.  Mom and I trecked through 12 to 18 inches of unshoveled sidewalks to get to their house.  She never complained the whole walk.   Thank you Mom.

As Ron stated during Mom's funeral, we had paper bag lunches, Mom would sign my name  to identify it was mine.  Every signature that I remember had two eyes and a smiley face in the "J".