She had a larger-than-life spirit. It was daunting to be the shy daughter. Everyone in town knew my mom. Because she reached out to everyone, from the guy sweeping out the store to the bartender serving the drinks. My mom knew them all...their stories and their dreams.
I worry that my own children won't remember her, but then we really lost her ten years earlier when her brain was damaged. She wasn't the same after that. She'd lost her sparkle, becoming more cynical and bitter. Angry at the world. Untrusting in the goodness in people.here to edit.
Instead of clinging to her, I've found the pieces inside myself which remind me of her. The color of my eyes, the fullness of my cheek. I've rejoiced in the small things like a photo of her carried on my daughter's bouquet down the aisle.
I've become the recorder of history. The memories, the photos, the recipes...saved for the next generation.
You should be here...you've missed so much.