I’ve lost track of the number of years I have lived in “a trailer.” The first one was our home while my husband was in Basic Training in Fort Ord, California (1953). The second one was somewhat larger while my husband was stationed at Fitzsimons Army Hospital in Aurora, Colorado. Later, Fort Devens, Massachusettes, and Fort Lewis, Washington. More recent years: A mobile home in Lancaster, California. From 2013 until 2020, an “RV” trailer home in Livingston, Texas. Currently, a “Park Model” trailer in Waco, Texas.

Suddenly I have the answer to a sixteen-year mystery: “Why did my sons reject me?”  They are embarrassed because their mother is “trailer trash.”