As you may know, the Funky Winkerbean story of the last months of Lisa's life is exerting a powerful pull on me. Lisa is a wife, a mom to a little girl, a friend, a lawyer, an activist, a woman who has just been discovered by the almost-adult son she thought she had lost to adoption.
On September 13, 1960, I was seven years old. I would grow up to be the lawyer mom blessed by the profound gift of seeing her children grow to adulthood. My mother, on September 13, 1960, was twenty-eight years old and had three weeks left to live ~ which she did not know.
If you did, what would you do?
I think I might go with the leaves, too.