Polimom’s mind isn’t on politics this morning.
Instead, I’m wandering some dusty, rarely-visited rooms in my mind — the places where a lady I knew for 35 years is young, vibrant, healthy, and sometimes frustrated with the antics of a couple of goofy girls.
She figures in more current vignettes too, but those are harder memories; I much prefer those older rooms.
Either way, those are the only places she still lives because this morning, in about an hour, I’ll be saying good-bye with my best friend to her mother.