I remember the laughter, that smile, the love, her kindness.
I remember her baking cakes, sewing dresses, preserving peaches, vacuuming, doing laundry and wrapping Christmas presents at 1 AM.
I remember Sunday afternoons in autumn, raking leaves, weeding the gardens, stacking firewood and cleaning out the ‘little house' in the backyard.
I remember the Sunday dinners that would follow—roast beef, rice and peas, sweet potatoes, plantain, and apple crisp for desert. I remember the joking and stories at the dinner table over a cup of tea, 60 Minutes on the TV set in the background.
I remember the times she was angry with us. She had a habit of talking to herself, long after she made her point, long after we left the room.
I remember her saying, “Thank you for thanking me” whenever someone thanked her.
I remember those embarrassing moments when Mrs. Kerr would speak her mind.
I remember the way she would swing her arm as she walked, the sound of her sandals swooping along the ground, the car keys jingling with each stride.
I remember the night in the emergency room, the anxiety attack, the heart attack, her fear, my sadness.
I remember her strength and enduring faith in God amidst the pain and suffering.
I remember a caring mother who loved her family, spoiled them, and wanted nothing but the best for them.
I remember holding her hand and looking into her eyes as she breathed her last breath.