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  • The things I think of, when I think of you - they're not often the sort of thing one imagines one would think of, when thinking of a mom who's gone almost 20 years. Sometimes, often, like yesterday, or maybe just half an hour ago, I thought we had a conversation. Well, I thought I spoke, and you looked at me with those eyes, and you said something, or you shrugged, or you smiled. Maybe you did all three.

    OK, I thought I heard you say from across the room.

    You were not there when I turned around but I thought I heard the echos of your footsteps.
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