My biggest fear is forgetting anything at all about my mother. Every day I add one more little thing to the hundreds of mental lists I have of the things she loved, the things she didn’t love. The things she did well. The songs she used to sing. The kind of hair spray she used and the kind of gum she chewed. I find some comfort in remembering these things, almost like I can build her again, piece by piece in my mind.
I thought I would write about some of the things she loved and the people, too, for these are what really defined her. Each thing and each person playing an important role in the architecture of her soul. Be they brick, mortar, or blade of grass.