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Contest: A wo-man

Every once in a while, I will smell her. She might visit in a dream. Often, she crosses my mind. 

My grandmother, Mommer. 

Reminiscing for hours, the nostalgia of her youth. I remember her telling me about her high school boyfriends when I was in high school with boy trouble. Specifically, her "bad boy" boyfriend-she would hike her dress up and hop on the back of his motorcycle and show off to all of her friends. How exciting that was! How full of life! 

Her red lipstick-she always wore it. When it was on her body at the viewing, it just wasn't the same, so lack luster and less vibrant. She brought life to that red lipstick.

We would pass the entire day, in the blink of an eye! Just talking. Talk. It wasn't anything special, but somehow it was everything. 

I would bring my cat, Marilyn, to visit. She adored cats. I fondly remember her being so graciously honored when she learned I called Marilyn my "baby girl," that's what she always called me. I was (and always will be!) her favorite granddaughter.