ONE OF MY LEAST READ, MOST DESERVING ESSAYS
WAS ABOUT MY MOM. SHE’D BE 101 TODAY.
I’ve been blessed with 300+ more sweet peeps since it ran so I’m reposting it because…you know. I so loved my mom.
The collar was fashioned into a multilayered sash, cresting the shoulders and flowing down the back to veil the neck and screen the zipper. A peach taffeta sheath shimmered underneath.
“Everyone knows a wife dies seven years after her husband,” Mom declared.
“Is that the law?” I asked.
“It is,” she assured.
“And, if you don’t die, what then? Do they give you a ticket?”
Mom flashed me the look of admonishment that every parent keeps ready to actuate in times of insolence.
“It’s a glorious dress,” she said.
“Yes,” I conceded. “A veritable work of art.”
My mom was never as thin as she thought she was, or planned to be. After 56 years, six children and a…
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