A "typically average" young woman stands on the "typically average" porch of a "typically average" American home in the early 1920s. And in some ways, my mother was a typically average woman of her time. But "average" is a surface word, hiding the fact that every human being is unique in the universe. No one had her smile, or her laugh, or all those millions of little things which separated her from everyone else. And no one could possibly have been a better mother.
