Note – Last year my mom asked for a memory for Christmas.  This is mine.  (Posted with permission)

I was lying flat on my back with eyes tightly closed. I could hear the sound of the wind in the branches and the various shouts of joy from kids enjoying the summer day. I was not enjoying the day. I was quite miserable. My universe was filled with darkness, pain and sound. I could hear the buzz of distant cars and flying insects. I could hear the various sounds of people going about their day in a large campground. Above all, and much closer, were the sounds of my mother’s crocheting needles clickity-clacking together in an asymmetric rhythm. Every so often there was a pause and the sound of the scissors cutting some yarn. Continue reading →