in memory of mom

Two years ago, my mom died and so I write in memory of her. In memory of her, I restarted my morning pages practice and today I will visit the Tucson Botanical Gardens. In memory of her, I will go out with my dad for lunch and be willing, should he request it, to savor the greasy goodness of Lucky Wishbone chicken which she relished, onion rings and all, on her last birthday of 91. In memory of her, I will reopen the book, Heidi, which I would read to her during the weeks of our final visits. Here is the passage where we left off:

(p. 98) "There's a boy here who wants to speak to Miss Clara personnally", he announced. Clara's eyes lit up at this highly unusual occurrence.
"Bring him in at once," she said....

My mom loved "unusuall occurrences". She went to Pike's Peak by bus in her early twenties and married my dad in Cheyenne, Wyoming before returning to her job at Woolworth's in Elgin, Illinois where she sunbathed and smoked cigarettes on the roof.
She remained a young girl in an old woman's body until her death, made the best spaghetti sauce that her Italian mother-in-law taught her and baked cookies and cakes with measured kitchen skills that have been passed to her sous chef grandson.

I suspect each of us have memories of our moms that we would rather not remember, but even those now, I can embrace with humility and love. So, if you have the inclination to do so today, remember your mom and find a way to keep her legacy alive, just for today.