Postcards

Although it's nearly three years since my Mom died, barely a week goes by when I don't have some type of experience or memory that reminds me of her.

I'm starting to think of these little thought flashes in my mind as postcards - a lovely photograph with a short note on the other side. Here's a sample from my "collection":

As a child and into my adulthood, people who knew my family would comment on how much I looked like my Dad. Blonde hair, blue eyes, long torso, short legs. But as I grow older, and even more so now that she's gone, friends comment on how much I look like my Mom. I can't always see it in myself, but I know that my one-year old daughter looks like a mini-version of her Grandma Anne. [Reverse side: a photo of me and my daughter together smiling, our eyes barely visible for they've been squeezed down to slits from our apple cheekbones]

I'm now at an age that I can remember my Mom being. When she was 38, I was 11, all full of angles and enthusiasm. [Reverse: photo of me & Mom in 1978]

My son pulled out a book to read the other day that my Mom loved, and would have loved reading to him. I could almost hear her voice in my ear as I read it aloud to him. [Reverse: the cover of the Velveteen Rabbit]

I can pull out these images in my mind whenever I care to, connecting my memories and my present life. Like a postcard collection, I can put them in a scrapbook of memories, pulling them out in my mind to remember the good times, to tell the story of my life's travels.

What helps you remember the good times with your loved one?