My mother

This, in case you didn't know, is my mother. She is the one on the right, kissing the shoulder of my baby sister Keila. It shows more of her character than her physical features. My mother loves her daughters. This was a hard day for Keila, and she was there there to love her.

Well, I can't write the funny story as promised, and the lesson has been learned: don't say you'll write something when you haven't written it yet. I actually wrote the whole story, but as I was writing I realized I didn't feel quite right. I think I realized that some of her stories are hers to tell. The thing is, as I've said before, my mother is magic, and especially to her family. But you have to know her to know. She gets to choose who she lets know her and who she does not, just like I do. If anyone read my blog two days in a row, I'm sorry that I can't make good on my intentions. But I would like to invite you over for dinner so that you can ask her about the funny story I was going to tell. Or just to know for yourself how easy it is to pass hours standing around the kitchen island when my mom and dad are there making you laugh and making it home.