Twenty-nine years ago this morning, my mother, Harriet (Davies) Shelton, died. That’s her on the right, on Labor Day Weekend in 1981, along with her mother, my grandmother, Harriet (Jones) Davies.
Looking through the many pictures I have of her, 48 years’ worth, I don’t think she ever took a bad photo: Short hair, long hair, every style in between. Mom met every moment sparkling and alive and wonderfully present, good will and optimism and realism all blended unforgettably.
Twenty-nine years later, her memory doesn’t dim.
Nows and Forevers 
Leave a reply to John sehn Cancel reply