Mom

Me: Do up your seatbelt.
Her: We're only going a few blocks.
Me: Accidents happen closest to home.
Her: Well, we better move! (laughter)
Me: (eye roll)

Me: Rich people don't have any problems.
Her: You don't know that. All people have problems, rich and poor. You don't know those people or what their lives have been like - don't judge them.

She taught me that to be a perfect houseguest you should leave the place looking just a little nicer than how you found it. It is a lesson I try to apply to all areas of my life.

When I was nervous about how to talk to people I didn't know she gave me this advice:
When you don't know what to talk about, ask them a question about themselves. People love to talk about themselves and before long I'll bet you find you have something in common.

She taught me not to be afraid to ask questions, look stupid. It's how you learn.

Her: You should do one thing every day that you're afraid of.

When I was in college I went to the school where she taught learning disabled third graders to meet her class. I stood next to her slight 5'8" frame (I'm 6'2") and she beamed up at me and said to her class, This is my baby girl.
I still am.

She never gave up. Not ever. Not even when she should have.

After remembering many things my mind always goes to when she was dying and some of the things that happened, things that we both said or didn't say. I try not to focus on those. They are horribly painful memories and too layered and complicated for me to sort out. I try to remember the lessons about life, not death.

Here's what I remember most about you, Mom: You were my greatest ally, my strongest supporter, my toughest critic. You taught me what unconditional love is. You showed me. Every day for 27 years and 4 days. I miss you and I love you. Always.