I would be remiss if I did not mention that on this day, 1971, I think, I lost my Mother, Jessie Maud Shannon Dooley. Early in the morning she didn't feel well, My Dad went to get her something, returned, and she was gone. Not a bad way to go.
I did not get to spend enough "quality" time with her, time to just sit around and talk. Jessie loved to have a good time. She loved her family and loved spending time with her. She loved it when people came out to their house for a visit.
A friend of theirs, Doctor Rose, from Columbus, came out for a visit on one occasion, and brought with him the legendary basketball coach from Ohio State, Fred Taylor. Mom had just baked an apple pie. Fred had two pieces, and left with a promise to return. That was just the kind of person she was.
She was a good Doctor's Wife. She quietly endured the many absences of my Dad when he was delivering one of his many babies at Miami Valley Hospital, or his office hours at the Fidelity Building.
During his pre-med and med school, they lived frugally, neck bones and fresh side. Just enough income for school, books and a little food. Then early on, home and office together. that meant the living room was an overflow waiting room. She was called on, on many occasions, to assist him in the officer, where more hands were needed. She was able to diagnose the urgency of telephone calls, and knew the appropriate action to take.
She was a PK, a preacher's kid, regular church goer, and above all, a good Mother. She loved Christmas and Thanksgiving, and family gatherings were things of joy to her.
I remember she was diagnosed with slightly high blood pressure by Doctor Ed Werner, our neighbor. He prescribed a shot of whiskey each day might help. We had a neighbor get the whiskey, neither Mom nor Dad wanted to be seen buying any. In order to get her to take it we had to disguise it with a variety of fruit juices, and just knowing it was in the concoction she had a hard time getting it down. It didn't last long, and the remaining whisky was poured down the drain, and the empty bottle was placed in the trash, wrapped in about three paper bags, so the trash man would not see it.
She passed away on Good Friday... RIP, Jessie Maud Shannon Dooley.
