No, I did not misquote the name of a famous Agatha Christy novel and movie. She is the last of the Clemens clan, belonging to James and Gertrude from Webster County, Missouri. She is my aunt. She has twelve siblings who made it to adulthood. Currently, we call her Aunt Amanda. I will save her the embarrassment of telling you what her parents and siblings used to call her.

As the years progress and we lose first one and then another of the cousins and someday the last of the Clemens sisters, I want to take this Mother’s Day to honor my Mom, Mary. We are cheered by the memories and encouraged that even more are in store for our children, grandchildren, and great-grandchildren.

I could tell you about my mother’s sisters and brothers, and I have in my book “Doulos.” You can read it as a paid subscriber to my premium materials. Whom I want to write about today is my mother.

Her name is Mary Francis Clemens Kensinger, which I know makes us sound like we are not true Americans. We are, and she began her life with the first three on this list. When she and Evan Kensinger were married, she, like 99% of her generation, took his last name. When you read that I have an Uncle Sam and say his pen name is Mark Twain, it is because she is a Clemens.

Our daughters and the other grandchildren called her Granny. When I was a kid, she talked about Irene Ryan, who played Daisy Moses on “The Beverly Hillbillies,” and when our oldest was born, she said she would be Granny. I completely understood why.

Mom was one of the reasons I know how to be a good parent and spouse. I received my share of spankings and other discipline types over the years, but I noticed that my sister and I were not given corporal punishment as often as our older brothers. We tried to follow that example with our girls. We spanked from time to time when we thought it was required.

Mom and Dad demonstrated what it meant to love with the Agape’ love of Jehovah as Paul describes. They were patient, kind, and faithful to each other. Mom demonstrated that to me often, no more so than when she described a conversation with one of Dad’s doctors.

Dad was diagnosed with schizophrenia when I was in high school, and Mom would take him to the hospital whenever his medication needed to be changed. This was a constant with that disease. Once she told me that she told the doctor that she was done. He asked her if she meant she wanted a divorce. Her response was, “Of course not.”

She said that what she meant was that she was done with dealing with the return of the symptoms and had delayed bringing him back as long as she felt was best. I never knew about this, and it was one of many things she confessed to me after he had passed away.

Thank you, Mom, for all you gave Cindy and I. Our marriage has been blessed by your example, and I work every day to love Cindy and our daughters the way you loved Dad and us kids. Thank you for the book title, also.

©Copyright 2026 by Charles Kensinger