I mainly took kid photos for my mother the romance novelist, as she begged for them almost daily. It didn't matter that she saw my boy at least every two weeks -- she checked my flickr page obsessively and regularly agitated for updates. For her, two days without a grandchild fix was a lifetime.
She died one year ago today. The yahrzeit has been burning next to the sink on a little plate since last night., in the same way and same place they'd burn in our kitchen for both sets of my grandparents. I told my brother that I didn't know exactly why I felt I had to do up the yahrzeit. He said, "Because you need juice glasses?"
(Dear non-Jew, this is hilarious, trust me on this)
I miss her terribly, but I forced myself to stop feeling sorry for myself after my large rump ran the Revlon 5k. I simply wish she had made it to meet the #00BFFF-eyed one you see above.
(Dear non-web nerds, this is clever, trust me on this)
But honestly, ever since I lost my target audience, I don't take nearly enough pictures of the new one. This one, from Monday, is for you, mom.
Apart from a perfect baby, a very imperfect year. But big changes coming. Finally. Thankfully. My mother said, "Not to worry, it will all work out." I'm amazed and grateful beyond words that she was right.
I'm ready to grow again, leaning towards the light.
Happy Memorial Day, me.
