I can't decide what is most to cherish: her lilting English voice, her ever cheerful disposition, or her incredible memory which puts mine to shame. She claims she does not remember England which she left at age 4, but every so often such memories pop up.
We talked nightly about the everything from my mother's eccentricities to the economy, health insurance, and mutual distaste of Republicans. She can hold her own in any discussion. I look beseechingly at my little finger and bless that somewhere I have a teeny dab of her genes.