queen of may...

Twenty-eight years ago, when I was four and she was the age I am now, my mother got into a little single engine airplane with her two little girls and followed my dad into the Alaska bush to start a new life. A life without phones, or running hot water, or grocery stores... A life with tundra, and bears, and a world of unknowns...

When I remember my childhood, my mother is always there, like the center of our solar system. Making an army quonset hut into a home... Turning a handful of kids into a Sunday School... Defying gale force winds to plant a garden...

Years have come and gone from that place and so has she... but today when I called her, it seemed fitting that she was back in that same little village, still faithfully at my dad's side, still making things beautiful wherever she is.

No matter where I am, home will always be where my mother is.

I love you mom.


:: “Home is where my mother is...”