Can't Forget

Virtually every day this past summer, whenever we were cruising through a wooded area, me Mom would say, "I bet this is pretty in the fall."

"We'll have to come back here then to see," I would reply, trying to remember exactly where we were so that I could retrace our steps come October.

We lost Mom September 22. 

I drove up to our place in Hessel a few days ago, in early October. The fall colors were in great display, it seemed, on every inch alongside the road. Can you imagine how difficult it was to not think of those short talks? Do you know how hard it was to not forget those exchanges?

Damned hard. That's how much.