I'll fly away.

On the appearance of things, it seems like a pretty normal (beautiful) day. We have been to the recycling center, the grocery store, to visit daddy at work, and the park. I have worked in the yard, unloaded the dishwasher, and did laundry.

But it's not a typical day for me. Everytime I have glanced at Audrey I have thought how much time will I have with my daughter? Because today. For me. I'm remembering the 23 years I had with my mom. And only the 10 years my little sister had with her. Or the 16 my brother had. Or the (almost) 30 years of marriage my dad had with her. All of which, those numbers were too short.

But to God be the Glory, that will we see her again.

Exactly a week before my mom passed she requested that we all go to Texas Roadhouse as a family. At this point we knew her time was short. She didn't have a lot of strength. She was in a wheelchair. It was time, and we knew it (although admitting it, was one of the hardest things I will ever have to do). But she insisted on dinner out together. And the following day, she was determined to go to our softball game. In wheelchair and all. These two memories, I will hold onto forever. She was so present even in her last days.

I can't believe it's been four years today since I had to say goodbye. But I know she is still right here with me. When I drink that cup of tea. Write that hand-written letter. Sit on our back deck. Talk to strangers. Listen to Bob Marley. Buy tons at the grocery store. I remember my mom. These are things that she did, that I catch myself doing. And I like it. I like it that I have her brown eyes. Her German stubbornness (Audrey gets this trait too, lucky her). Her sense to enjoy life and live for the moment. Because the little moments are what life is all about.

I consider myself one lucky gal to have had my mom for 23 years.

{I love this picture because it shows my mom so well. Her love for life. Her zeal. Her awesome dance moves. This was taken in June 2005- on my wedding day, just 10 months before she passed. We partied that day. I'm so thankful to have that day and remember that my mom was able to dance and let go and almost pretend that day she was cancer free. Oh, and check out my dad to the left. He must be zoning in on his next dance move. And then there is me on the far right. I'm totally getting into it. Ha.}