this memory doesn't fade

 Rock star smile.

Rock star smile.

Mom died three years ago today. Her buoyancy, fearlessness and resolve astounded me. She learned new art forms in her eighties and pursued them with vigor. She spread love and acceptance to all around her without judgement. She could bait a hook at the same time as steering the boat. She loved romance novels, bacon-fried potatoes, fabric in all colors and hearing from her sons. She would get in her car and head off without destination just to get a handle on what was out there. She was my mentor and sideline cheerleader.

I miss her every day.

fading shadows.

Memories fade, but not these. She is sharp in my memory. She talks to me in my dreams. I can feel her hands on my shoulders.

I miss her every day.