Mom's quilts...

I found mom's quilts today.  Well, actually they aren't her quilts and Steve found them.  I always called them mom's quilts and he always knew which ones I was talking about.  She loved them. Every time she would come to visit I would have the bed made with these quilts laid out for her.  I had put them away at some point in the past year and just didn't know where they were, until they were found today clearing out the storage in the garage.

He opened the box and I gasped.  Mom's quilts!

It's these little things that every day remind me of her.  It's not just one thing either.  It's every day all day - little things.  Some days it makes me smile, some days cry.  Sometimes both.

I've been able to say her name more out loud in the past few weeks.  I said to Steve this evening, I'm so glad we found mom's quilts.  I didn't get a lump in my throat when I said it.  I didn't break down in sobs.  I just meant it and said it out loud.  And I don't know what sort of step that is, but it seems like some kind of step in the process.