Remembering my mother.

  Your mother is always with you . . . She's the whisper of the leaves as you walk down the street. She's the smell of bleach in your freshly laundered socks. She's the cool hand on your brow when you're not well. Your mother lives inside your laughter. She's crystallized in every teardrop. She's the place you came from, your first home. She's the map you follow with every step that you take. She's your first love and your first heartbreak, and nothing on earth can separate you. Not time, not space . . . not even death will ever separate you from your mother. You carry her inside of you. 

                          Marion Rector Kavaney
               b. March 2, 1926
               d. May 5, 1980 - thinking of you mom.
      Happy Mother's Day mom! A week early, just as on the day you died.