I had no idea how strong my mother could be until my father died.

Her life changed more than mine did, more than it did for my younger brother and sister, although we were devastated.

Betty was a capable woman, educated and adventurous enough to move from Chicago to Hawaii, by herself, in the 1950s. But when she married my father, she chose the life of a homemaker over full-time work. She occasionally taught as a substitute teacher in area elementary schools, but she preferred golfing. It was always her passion.

Now, life was different. It felt dire. Suddenly, my mother had to find a way to pay a mortgage, household bills and put her three children through college. She was 50 years old and this was the last thing she expected out of life.

Her solution was to take some accounting classes and become a bookkeeper. She had always been good with numbers.

I’m not going to say she fell into an effortless new career. While I don’t remember specifics, I do remember hearing complaints, enough to make me think she didn’t like any of it.

But she kept working. We stayed in the same house. My brother and sister attended mainland colleges. We all got new clothes at Christmas.

Life as we knew it went on, thanks to our mother.

It wasn’t all work, though. On Sundays, she still got to golf. — Mike Gordon