Mom!

You never think about your parents having sex. Somehow you got here, but you don’t really think about how that happened. Yesterday was the seventh anniversary of my mother’s passing. I rarely dream of her, but last night I did. In the dream, my father was a salesman, kind of like he was in life. He had just closed a big deal in a town where no one thought he could. His sale was like the Browns winning in Pittsburgh. My mother was telling me about it. She had long white wavy hair, was dressed in a white gown, and looked beautiful. Not movie star beautiful, but rather lovely as my family is lovely. Our own features made her so. She was talking about how happy they were, and remarked, with a sly grin, “And I worked really hard last night!”