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| My mother, son Byron, son George, daughter Lindsay, then-spouse Colleen, and me |
by Thomas Tasseff
2023-10-18. Today would have been her 108th birthday. During the shortening days of December 2005, my mother, probably the only real friend I ever had, fell into a deep depression from which she never recovered. "Failure to thrive" was doctors' enigmatic diagnosis. It seemed more apt for an infant than a geriatric patient, but it had by then depleted most of her life reserves.
