It all seemed so wonderful to her — the puffy white clouds in the deep blue spring sky and those brilliant red azaleas just beginning to bloom along with the magnificent rhododendron, purple buds just popping out from their winter sleep.
Yet what she liked most of all was sitting in the front seat of our 1973 Plymouth Valiant and viewing the world around her during our short ride.
Mom was a little old lady, whose 93 years of struggle were tragically evident.
Even though she could barely make it into the Valiant, that was one of her greatest pleasures, and perhaps the last.
I still have the 1973 Plymouth Valiant, and although it’s been 20 years since she left me, those beautiful memories of her will always be part of me.