Sunday is Mother’s Day. You weren’t going to forget, were you? In the last few years of my grandma Shipley’s life she would remind us when we visited the little green house on Auten Road, “I won’t always be here, you know.” She was right. She isn’t there now. Her little dogs don’t bark in the breezeway. The place doesn’t smell of coffee. Grandpa doesn’t smile quietly in the chair surrounded with books and radios. Grandma and Grandpas are in Heaven. Strangers live in the house. If your mom is still living, don’t forget to let her know how much you love her. She won’t always be here, you know. (I love you, Mom).