No matter how we got along, the memories of our parents stay with us. I’m sure a brief thought of my mother goes through my mind every day and she has been gone from this planet 33 years. I am shocked I am living longer than she did. Sometimes just looking at my hands I see the resemblance to hers.
What a great poem Denise.
Oh, she was a mere baby when she passed to the next world, Jo! I had no idea, but just thinking about you saying you think of her every day, I understand that fully.
Sometimes I still want to pick up the phone and tell her something funny. And then I remember. Once again.