The past few Christmas/New Year’s seasons really got me to thinking about my mother, who died in 1997 and is buried in my favorite place on the planet—Hughes Springs, Texas.

Her name was also Geneva Stovall, which was just as confusing for us as it sounds like it might have been. She lived with me—I’m not sure when we crossed that demarcation line where the child became the mother and the mother became the child—and we were always a household of two plus at least one dog.

I miss her the most this time of year. I never had a spouse or children, and therefore no grandchil...

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