It was a year ago today that my mother, Elizabeth Dutton Lewis, died at age 95. She was quite a unique individual, really one of the liberated women of her time and always a scholar. We shared a lot of things over the years, most of which was wonderful. She taught me at an early age to appreciate books, science and art, to have good manners, to be refined (she worked extra hard at this, may not have totally succeeded but some rubbed off), and to have a love for the written word. Mother was brought up in an age when most women finished high school and become home makers. Yet, she went on to college, took graduate courses, wrote a book, served her county and state on numerous committees and offices, and taught school. She could also set an exquisite table, arrange flowers beautifully, write flowing letters in a beautiful hand, crochet beautifully, and seemingly rise to every occasion when necessary. I wish that I were so accomplished. I miss her a great deal but know that we are connected in spirit. She and my father are side by side at the family cemetery in Virginia. Rest in peace and love.
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