The strain of being a single parent living in poverty at one point proved to be too much for Mother.  One day when I was tagging along behind Willard and Gene as they roamed around playing in a field across the highway someone came to tell them to come home quickly.  Whatever they were told scared them so badly they began running home, leaving me far behind.  By the time I got home, they were inside the house.   An adult met me at the door and told me to wait outside on the front porch.  I sat on the porch swing listening to my Mother making terrible moaning noises inside the house.  I had no idea of what was wrong or what was happening.  I was terrified and consumed with worry.  The same “Medicine Man” who removed my finger came to our house, went inside and stayed for a while.  He must have given Mother a sedative because when I was finally allowed to go into the house she was sleeping.

After the doctor left, by eavesdropping on the conversation, I learned that she had suffered a “nervous breakdown.”   No one explained to me what that was.

It turned out to be just a temporary thing.  Mother had simply been physically worn to the point of exhaustion as well as having been emotionally whipsawed by the terrible strain of taking care of three teenagers and a little kid.  A few days later she was up and once more taking care of things.