Momma

She lives in that part of the sun that you can only see when your eyes are shut. When your sitting comfortably in an outside chair head propped upward,sun beating down,warmth radiating through you, and eyes are shut. You see it,still feel it,the shadows of the light and dark,even when your eyes are closed...and it is there that she lives now.

(Otilia Carvajal)

She also lives in the smell of the jasmine and in the dance of the palm trees.

(Mom and Dad)

She's in the color green and red and yellow...yes,especially yellow.

(Mom with my four siblings)

She's in the cold water that runs down my hand and always makes me thankful.

(Mom and me)

She's in that first sip of coffee in the morning,the one that runs down my throat and awakens the soul and makes me close my eyes and whisper "good morning new day".

(Mom,my sister Ingrid and me)

She lives in the song of the wind chime and in the shapes I see in the clouds.

(Mom and the five kids)

She's in the soup she made for us. She's in every ingredient,every stir,every taste.

(Mom and Dad,together 58 years)

She lives in the stars and in the way they seem to shine down only for me.

(Me and Mom last year)

She's in the birds,the way the swoon and soar,the way they spread their wings and glide.

She's in a place so close,so dear, smiling and watching every moment.

My sweet and gentle Momma now smiles down to us from above.Thankful for every minute with her and for God choosing her to be our Momma.

"Long ago God drew a circle in the sand exactly around the spot where you are standing right now. You were never not coming here. This was never not going to happen.” — Elizabeth Gilbert

Here's to making every minute count,