What part of memory is fact? What is fiction?
What is real? What is - only - imagined?
I stop to count....and remember.
My mother's last smile.
My mother's last words.
My mother's last hug and goodbye kiss.
Once and again - the landscape is every imaginable shade of abundance.
Greens and yellows and purples.
She loved color. She lived it.
And - here - I am.
Holding on. Letting go.