Guilt. When I saw today’s date of August 25, I immediately knew that I had forgotten the anniversary of my mother’s death the day before. On August 23 I remembered. Actually, for a moment I thought that she died on August 23, but I was confusing her death with my first wedding anniversary. Both were terrible days. But how is it that I did not even think of it yesterday, even when I looked at the calendar?
August 25, 2008
July 9, 2008
The Ugly Stick
A couple of my mother’s sayings:
I feel like I’ve been beat with the ugly stick.
I’d feel better if I was dead.
That’s kind of how I’m feeling right now. Well, at least the ugly stick part. Not so much the dead part.
May 27, 2008
Memorial Day 2008
~my mother’s headstone
~irises were her favorite flowers
~red was her favorite color
May 26, 2008
Bird Legs
My mother was always slender. Her nickname as an adult (and probably as a child) was BL. Bird Legs. Gotta love it! 
She called me Susan Smoozan.
May 14, 2008
Mr. and Mrs. Bridge
I adore cardinals. So did my mother. Below is a poem about a memory of her and cardinals.
Vivid Red
There was a morning,
a snowy, freezing morning,
long ago – decades ago -
when you called me to the kitchen window.
Outside was a male cardinal,
his color stunning against the snow.
Such a simple event,
yet the memory is as vivid as his red.
That was the day I realized
that you saw the beauty, too.
(c)2006 Susan Sonnen
When we lived in Olathe, Kansas, I kept bird feeders outside our kitchen window. A pair of cardinals stopped by each day. We named them Mr. And Mrs. Bridge.
Any time that I see a cardinal, I consider it a good omen.
May 1, 2008
My Mother’s Last Words
Well, not her VERY last words, but the last words of wisdom that my mother offered me on the night of her unexpected death were, “Susan, you’re going to find out that no one is going to take care of you, but you.”
