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Yesterday, May 17th, was my five-year wedding anniversary and the eight-month anniversary of Mama’s death. I finally visited Mama’s grave for the first time since the headstone was added. The sun was shining, Bobby and I were on our way out of town, I felt that any overwhelming emotions would be lessened by that. It’s just not real. Just not real. I took a picture of Mama’s stone… is that weird? I’ve gotten so into cataloging events through the lens of my little digital camera, and I found it in my hand as I knelt down. And it seemed appropriate. The stone is a tribute to my mother. It’s the best that her daughters could do, the most fitting, appropriate words we could think of to describe the beautiful lady who was the sunshine for countless people. All her roles – wife to Daddy. Mother to Jennifer, Sue and me. And David Lee. And Bobby. And Tom. And so, so many more. Daughter to Grandma and Grandpa. Sister to Uncle Rocky. Teacher to all her little Fair-Oak Elem munchkins. And friend to… where do I even start? Amy & Mike, Wanda & Steve, Anne & Scott, Vicky, Jean, Tracy & Brian, Montez. The list goes on and on and on – there are so many who were impacted by Mama, who loved her smile and infectious laugh, and who will never be the same because she’s not here.

And so I’m going to add the picture. Things like stone memorials aren’t important where she is now. But the pink granite, the ribbon that symbolized so much to her, and her last words – “I Believe” – those things are important to us.