This is the first Mother's Day, since I could put a pen to paper, that I'm not mailing you a card or gift or drawing from the kids. You always saved them so well over the years. I didn't inherit your voice, or your guitar skills, but I will at least work on keeping alive your regard for memories big and small. We'll still make you a card this year...it will be on the dining room table. Should you feel like dropping by, pluck us a feather from your angel wing and leave it in the napkin holder.
I love and miss you