Sometimes I forget

This was Aunt Pat. My husband loved his Aunt Pat like a mother. This picture was taken the last time she really traveled. She came to Georgia almost 12 years ago to help me for two weeks with my first born baby. She died a couple of years ago. I sometimes forget that fact. I forget that she's not still living in Las Vegas, waiting for us to come on our bi-annual trip. Before kids we went as often as we could, but after kids, Michael would go alone just so he could see her. There is something very common that runs in the Thurman family: Stubbornness. To get these two in a room discussing any sort of matter was an event in itself. But like I said, it runs in that gene pool. Luckily Michael knew when to stop and then he'd go over and hug on his aunt and tell her he loved her. 
When I see this picture that sits on my computer desktop, I'm reminded of 2 things: Aunt Pat is gone and she was and important part of our life that is desperately missed. Secondly, there are few things that bring out this genuine happiness in my husband. With a ridiculous schedule including work and campaign, he rarely has time to smile this smile. However, here he was the happiest. In this picture I can remember simpler times and new beginnings. Its genuine and true happiness.