Every minute, every moment

Margaret Thatcher was born the same year as my mom. So was Queen Elizabeth. The queen is still kicking, but the Iron Lady has died.

I had a dream the other night about trying to help my mom. She kept losing her balance, falling over and over again. I was trying to help and couldn't. I woke up feeling helpless.

Now, my mom is in great health. She is a little "tipsy" and uses a cane now. Her mind is sharp. But she's 88. I'm trying to appreciate every minute with her now, trying to get her tell the stories only she knows so that I won't forget, so I'll have them to tell my children and grandchildren, my nieces and nephews. I want to hear again about her listening to the Detroit Tigers with her grandfather. When they won the World Series in 1935, her grandfather jumped up and down so hard he nearly broke the ceiling lamp.

I want to hear about her raising seven kids one summer in a tiny trailer after our house burned, and my dad and uncle were reconstructing it.

I want to hear about....all of it. I want to remember her voice, her laugh, her sense of humor, her tenacity and her deep faith.

Every minute, every moment.

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