Today—December 7—would have been my mom’s 84th birthday. She passed away in late September.
My mom didn’t have a super-happy childhood, but all of that changed when she met my dad.
The Tragedy
In 1969, when I was very young, my parents and aunt and uncle were in a head-on collision with a drunk driver. My uncle was behind the wheel. His wife, riding shotgun, was instantly killed. (My beautiful Aunt Emma. Mother of five.) My parents were in the back seat. Of the survivors, Mom was the most seriously hurt. She was told she’d never walk again, which turned out not to be true. She also suffered a brain injury, however, from which she never fully recovered.
When I think of my mom, and my own life, I’m reminded of Isaac. Years ago in a bible study, I learned that Isaac’s life was less eventful than other Old Testament heroes. He was nearly sacrificed by his father, Abraham, but that happened when he was very young.
I don’t remember life before the crash, so I never really got to know my mother as her true self. I grew up like Isaac, in relative calm, after my family’s terrible tragedy.
One day I will write all about this, but not today. Today I celebrate my beautiful mother, Marianne, as she was—the Marianne I never got to know.
I love you, Mom.
illustories 
Golly, I had no idea your mom passed. I liked the Marianne I got to know, very much. Sending you love.