Just a Nice Lady Who Drank Too Much

My first clear memory from my childhood was when my mother died when I was almost six. Life was never the same in our house after mom died. We had always gone to church and Sunday school but now my dad would drop my sister and me off and come back and get us when church was over. I think he must have been mad at God for taking my mother from him, because he didn't go to church any more after she died. My brother had graduated from high school that year and he worked and lived at home until he was drafted into the army.