Memories of mother

Written by: Albert Ahearn

Mothers Day always trips sadness in me since her death years ago; impelling a circuitous journey of memories that flow within a stream of consciousness always the same, unabated. It’s queer how an act of congress can regress a mind effected in such a way as to cause tears. I guess stranger things have happened and will happen over the years. Though measured in nanoseconds these yearly memories of her are all that remains of mother.