remembering...

Here is one of the blogs I check daily, sometimes more than once a day.  http://www.leciawphinney.com  It's a blog my niece started in the summer of 2008 - hopefully I have my date correct - and I LOVE IT!  It has allowed me to know her and her wonderful family from so many miles away.  Seattle, Washington to Culpeper, Virginia with the speed of a mouse click.

Lecia's posting from Tuesday has lingered in my mind all day.  So, I wanted to share it with you. 

One of my favorite photos of my mother.
Even though you cannot see her face,
this embodies who she was in so many ways.
She loved playing "42".
Lecia took this on her last visit
with her Grandmother Wolf in Terrell, TX.

Take a quick moment and read the post for July 19. Her Grandmother Wolf is my mother;  a spunky often cantankerous woman.  Mother enjoyed Lecia's phone calls as she did all the phone calls from her grandchildren, great-grandchildren, children (most of the time), other family and friends. Through age, poor hearing and dwindling patience Mother often would just end the conversation when she felt there was no more to say or anything she wanted to hear. The end. Click.

At the age of 88, my mother had a massive stroke and was unconscious for almost 15 days before she passed.  I sat with her through those long days and long nights.  Lecia was often my late night phone companion through that emotionally draining time. Distance was not a factor for the love and concern we were able to share at that difficult time.  I will always be grateful to her for that companionship. 

Cleaning up phone contacts, address books, email contacts.  Such a simple task that you wouldn't think could evoke such emotion.  Sometimes we do need to take stock of our contacts and delete away.  But like Lecia, I have not deleted my mother's contact information from any address book I have.  There are others also still listed that are only a memory now.  Even though their earthly address is no longer relevant their location in my heart is and I like being taken there from time to time.

Moral of the Story: Memory is a way of holding onto the things you love, the things you are, the things you never want to lose.