c'est la moux pas la choux.


it has been 20 years now since you have died. i still can see your beautiful face. even though you were so sick and had so much trouble breathing, you were beautiful to me. i don't remember a lot about those last days. i tried hard to put them out of my memory. i remember praying to God to take you home so you wouldn't suffer anymore. maybe that was selfish of me. i wanted you to stay, but i wanted you well, and i knew that wasn't an option. i guess he wanted you more. i miss you so much. you have 4 beautiful great grandchildren. and you should see how wonderful the grandkids are with their kids. i know you would be proud. i know somehow you may be watching and i can't wait to be with you when that time is right. i guess all this is coming from going to see jim's parents. his mom fell and broke her arm and her thumb on the other hand and cut her eye really bad. we had to go home. she couldn't use either hand. his dad has symptoms of alzheimers and is dependent on narcotics for pain and we knew he couldn't help. it made me realize how life is so fragile. one minute she was standing in the driveway visiting with a lady from church, the next she is laying on the ground with both bones broke and sticking out and blood all down her face, and his dad came out and saw her like that, and the shock of it, well, he couldn't even go to the hospital with his own wife when the ambulance came. it was so pitiful. and here we are....12 hours away, and can't leave at least for 3 days! jim and i were ready to scoop them up and carry them back with us, but we know that they will never leave that place. they have lived there all their lives. so...we may move there soon. don't know when, but soon. i think about how you loved the ocean. when we lived in alabama and went to the beach in florida how you liked the sun and water. later, you didn't, but then you did. even in california, you liked to sit in your recliner by the window in the sun. gosh i miss you so much. i wish i could ask you all sorts of questions about our family. stories i never knew. stuff i just took for granted. i still have those tapes that were made of your interview right before you died. i still have not listened to them. i am afraid. and i don't have a cassette recorder....do they even exist any more? well, mommy, je t'aime ma stite crotte. i know that this is silly that i am writing to you, but it is almost your anniversary. and i didn't want to forget you. Je me Souviens....and i always will, je t'aime avec tout mon ceour! ta petite fille, jojo