Her every skin and blood cell. The way she purses her lips and vehemently shakes her head in disbelief. Her sing alongs to the Rolling Stones. The buzz of her sewing machine. Her rants on all things made in China. The shape of her face in dark sunglasses. Her macaroni salad. The way she clasps a cup of tea to keep her delicate hands warm. Her expansive trivia knowledge. The hodgepodge of clothing she wears with blingy embellishments. Her disdain for intellectuals. The way she folds her clothes. Her fondness of kitsch. The boundless generosity. Her tiny sweatless feet. All of her. I love.
Mom and sister Leah to the right