Today is my mother’s eighty-fifth birthday. She died February 9, 1999 a month before her sixty-first birthday. I was only thirty-nine when my mother died. There is so much that I wish for, but wishes rarely come true. This is the last picture that I ever took of my mother. We were in Louisiana on a mother daughter trip. While driving on the backroads, windows down and the radio blaring is when I discovered who Barbara was. We laughed, talked about serious things, childhood memories, regrets we had, things we wished for, and we made big plans for the next trip. This was my first trip with my mother and ending up being the last one I would ever have with her.
Happy Birthday Mom, I love and miss you more than you could ever imagine.
Today I am grateful for my mother's courage and bravery, that allowed me to experience one of the most treasured moments of my life.
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