One hundred and twenty hours after my mother took her last breath, we gathered around a deep hole and covered her casket in roses.
The water shimmers baby blue beneath a blushing pink sky and it seems Bob and I are the only people on earth.
Sometimes you just have to reach for that box of shiny new colors.
Now, more than ever, I needed to go home to Mother.
Fun with Dick and Jane followed: a secular version of worldly wisdom with pages splashed in pictures of apple-cheeked children under blue skies. I devoured my lessons, turning them over in my mind before I fell asleep at night, wondering which ones held the key to family harmony.