January 27th. . .
I moved a thousand miles south a couple decades ago.
I was in my early 20s. Because of the distance I was lucky to get home once a year.
Five years later my mom died from injuries as the result of a very tragic car accident.
I'm thinking about her friends.
I see their smiling faces. A deep love in their eyes. Connections that cannot be broken.
Of shared experiences with their children. Their husbands. Their community. And especially fishing.
I don't always get to see these women when I come home. But when I do it brings a clenching to my heart. Overwhelming emotions that are hard to control. It's like the funeral was just last week instead of 30 years ago. Even now as I picture their faces, my throat closes up and my eyes fill with tears. I picture myself as a little girl and them having their arms wrapped around me as I cry. They cry too.
In honor of my mom whose birthday is today. She would have been 77. I look at her sisters and try to picture what she would look like now. I imagine what our conversation topics might be. What type of art she might be doing or if she would have established an art related business. . . thoughts. . . imaginings. . .