Twenty-two years and a life time...

This post, the first real post, will be about my mother, Marjorie. Mom, who lived with me for twenty-two years, died in her sleep on March 18th of this year. She came to live with me after my father died, because she did not have the means to live on her own. Even though I am the youngest of my siblings and was not at that time at a point in my personal life for this responsibility I embraced it anyway. I invested deeply in making her life a good one...she deserved it. She grew and blossomed into a happy, independent soul. She had twenty-two good years.
She loved to be outside with her feet bare and her hands in the dirt. She could grow anything. I once gave her a long stem rose which she rooted. If it rained, she could only take it for so long then she was out working in the rain. Later she would come back in dripping, but with a big smile.
My son and I miss her.