The earliest memories I have of my mother are sensory... her touch, her smell, and her warmth. I was afraid of the dark as a child. Back in those days we didn't leave on a light at night. I remember lying beside my mother at night, her holding my hand, asking her to please not go to sleep before me. She would squeeze my hand and assure me that she wouldn't. I know now how difficult that must have been for her after a long day of taking care of a family. She was 35 when she had her first child and then I came along 6 1/2 years later. I shared some thoughts about Mama in this post back in February on her birthday. She was a wonderful, down to earth, no nonsense kinda Southern girl!
Thanks Mama, for holding my hand and never going to sleep before I did.