Memories from childhood are tricky because they feel like dreams leaving us to wonder, did it really happen? One distinct memory I have is being with my Mom and Dad at a friend’s house. For some reason on this night I was the only child with them. With dinner done I was ready to go home but the lights went off, furniture was moved and dancing began. Sitting in my Mom’s friend’s lap I observed my parents as I rarely ever saw them, laughing and dancing.

This is a special memory of my Mother because I have no other that are like this. In the following years my Mother dove deeper and deeper into her religion leaving no trace of her former self. She is so wholly defined by her beliefs that its hard to distinguish the woman from her religion.

But once upon a time she was more like me.

I might not have inherited her eyes or nose but I inherited her sense of humor and big, beautiful laugh, the kind that echos and startles, annoying those that are not laughing with you and cracking up those that are.