This is probably a kindergarten class. Mother would be, I guess, five years old. She's the curly brunette in the front center, with her arms up and eyes closed. She sure looks like a doll to me.
Calling Mother went something like this:
Mom: Hello.
Me: Hey Mom!
Mom: Well, hey doll!
(or hey handsome! or hey sugar! or hey sweetie! or hey angel!)
And when caller ID came in, she'd skip the hello and answer "Hey doll!" and so forth. So this is what I experienced, over and over, up until the time she died. I was never embarrassed by it. It was music to my ears! The sweetest tone. The loveliest melody. Her voice, in those moments, radiated pure love. She made you feel good. I miss that.
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