It happens out of the blue. Sometimes it is a memory or it might be something that I am doing. Either way, Mom’s memory fills my heart and my eyes fill with tears.
Sunday, I spent the day pruning her plants and getting the garden ready for Spring. In previous years, Mom and I would be in the yard together. I can remember Mom telling me what to do and what plant to put where.
Suddenly, I stopped and looked up. The wind chime started blowing in the wind and making sweet soft music. She has a way of doing that. She purposefully did things with me so that her memory would always be with me, where ever I go and with whatever I do. Her memory is with me, deep in my soul.