You were close by today; I could hear your voice telling me to slow down and drive carefully in the rain; and memories of you and your laughter wove in and around moments in my day. It was after all, the anniversary of your birth. I try to conjure a picture of you at 72, but that won't be necessary. You were spared any ravages of aging and your spirit is forever young. I still miss you as much as I did that night when you left us. But my longing for you is a strange brew of comfort; the little space of empty - a reminder of the exceptional mother who used to fill it.