As I process her death, there is a lot that flits by, both good and bad. In the end I've decided that none of us should be held accountable for our first and last ten years. The garrulousness and intractability of those years, well, that is not who we are, or were, not really.
|With my brother Jeff, and flowers in her hair|
|Me and my grandfather. I am in jeans. But one side got wet.|
Still, I have a weird love for the reality TV show America's Next Top Model, and I always watch Project Runway. My mother looked great in everything she ever wore. How fun would that be? But she never complained about ending up on a rural Wisconsin farm, isolated from everything. That is the single most amazing fact about her.
|My mother, age 17, kissing my father.|
I miss my mother. And that is all.