Saint Gene and I have been spending some time at my mother's home starting the process of sorting out her items and getting her house ready to sell. It's hasn't been the most pleasant process, digging through her things, stirring up memories, but at the same time it's allowed me to renew my memories of my mother as she really was. Not as the woman who had advanced dementia. Not as the woman who was bedridden and couldn't feed herself. But as the vibrant, active woman she was most of her life. As the woman with the most beautiful singing voice who sang while she worked around the house. As the woman who would tell you she wasn't creative but would make beautiful needlework or bake the best tasting cake you ever ate. As the woman who raised two children to become productive, responsible adults. It has been wonderful seeing that woman again through the photos she kept and through the things she found valuable. And I'm glad to have her back. I missed her.