I Remember.

I remember your eyes – always twinkling, waiting for the next laugh or bit of mischief.

I remember how accepting you were of everyone – you could find common ground with just about anyone, and all of my friends loved you and felt welcome and accepted by you.

I remember you sitting by the back door with me on a rainy day, singing “Bushel and a Peck” and “You Are My Sunshine.”  It may have been raining, but that is a warm, bright memory.

I remember that you were not perfect, and neither was am I.  We had stupid arguments.  We had serious fights.  We hurt each other from time to time.  But at the end of the day we were always left with overwhelming love for one another.

Your foods are my comfort foods.  I remember hamburger casserole, lasagna that had little to do with actual Italian cuisine, chocolate chip pancakes, cowboy cookies….

I remember your connection with animals, especially horses.  I remember how careful you were to cultivate respect and compassion for them in me instead of just blind enthusiasm about them.

I remember long trail rides together with you where sometimes we would fix all the world’s problems together, and sometimes we would hardly say a word.  Both ways were wonderful.

I remember that even by your own admission, you weren’t much of a housekeeper (and neither am I, doh!) but you were undoubtedly a fantastic HOMEmaker.  Our house was our refuge and you were the heart of it.

I remember.

I miss you, Mom.

Becki