Anne Euphamia Bray (April 14, 1914-November 2, 2002)

What should one say about one's Mother? As I got older we agreed to disagree on many things. We argued frequently and she liked to say that the reason for my rebellion was the fact that we were so much alike. She also told me that I should make the most of my life while I could because none of her brothers had lived to be 70. I never understood the motive for this. I have no doubt she loved me, but sometimes it appeared to be more of a personal ego thing. Love for an image she had rather than any pride in the real me. I've heard her brag about someone who had my name -- but that seemed to be the only similarity. She never totally forgave me for my divorce nor my decision not to stay in or return to Crestline. Her tendency to sometimes 'run open' when she got started talking could drive me nuts. To the consternation of both my wives, she played the mother-in-law role to the hilt.

Mother in her late teens. Wasn't she pretty?

Little woman and big baby. Mother holding me in the summer of 1938. Notice that the road through Crestline was not yet paved.

Mother with her sons in about 1949. This was in front of Uncle Harold's (Judy's Dad) grocery store.

Harry and Mother at a Lyerla family reunion in Pittsburg, Kansas in 1998

Mother, Harry and Tim visiting me in Biloxi, Mississippi in around May, 1956. Mother was 42, Harry 35 and Tim 11. I was 18 (taking the picture).

Having the above off my chest, the bond with one's mother is unlike that with anyone else. In all my years away from home I wrote her and visited her often. At the last I chose hospice when I was told her lone kidney was failing and she wouldn't get better. Her long illness was creating lots of pain for her and was pulling Harry down and down. She was the last of the 11 Bray children and was almost 89. I don't regret my decision, but when it was over I felt a great sense of loss and some guilt

Mother was head over heels in love with my Father. Her second marriage was one of convenient necessity. Right after Dad got killed she made a feeble effort to work at the shirt factory in Carl Junction, Missouri. She didn't want to work. She just wanted to be a mother and a wife and she made it very clear. Luckily, she found a wonderful husband in Harry, who was the most magnanimous human being I've ever known. There was an intellectual difference which, perhaps, caused her to be more aggressive than she would otherwise have been. Always at her beck and call, Harry offered little counterbalance. She'd controlled her Irish temper much better when Dad was alive.

Harry Eugene Anderson (April 8, 1921-January 31, 2007) was seven years younger than Mother. He'd been in WW2 and his reserve unit had been recalled for the Korean conflict when Dad got killed. He and Father had been fishing buddies. He was an SFC in the Army and (I think) had planned to make it a career. When he and Mother decided to get married he got out of the Army and got a job at the chemical plant. I never heard, but assume Mother would just have no part of being an Army wife. Harry was great. Since my Brother Tim was seven years younger than me he called him Dad. Mother and Harry tried to have children, but after more than one miscarriage gave up. I was with the new family a little over three years before I joined the military.