Remembering Mother After Fifty Years

This day marks the fiftieth anniversary of my mother's death. I'm not that much older, so it does indeed mean I was very young when she lost her five year fight with cancer. Each year when there's talk of the anniversary of President Kennedy's assassination this personal anniversary, eight days later, begins a countdown. How many years has it been? Each year adds another, until today it's a momentous number—FIFTY. A half-century ago three young girls lost their mother and their lives changed irrevocably.

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My oldest sister remembers her the most, my middle sister remembered her...differently, and I remember her—not at all. 

In commemoration of the short life of the much-loved mother in my non-existent memories—her grandchildren, when they were very young:

 

In Loving Memory of

Patricia DeCosta Hill

14 May 1930 - 30 Nov 1963