Two shoes for mom

YESTERDAY WAS MY mother's 75th birthday. Hard to believe she passed away nearly 10 years ago - I miss her a lot and I really wish she could see the store and the amazing turn of events in life itself.

Somewhere there's a pair that match.

I am my mother's son. I am ditzy and forget stuff all the time, just like her. I get lost on roads and I'm happily oblivious to many things. I remember obscure 1980s rock songs like my mom remembered movies and actors and actresses. She recalled it was Don Ameche, not Victor Mature, who co-starred with Betty Gable in the 1943 classic .... whatever. Can't remember, now.

This morning Sheryl got to the dentist's office and realized she had worn two different shoes. I can hear my mom laughing - she did stuff like that all the time. My philosophy on white socks is that if one is yellow-tipped and the other is gray-tipped, well, there's another pair just like them in the drawer somewhere.

Somewhere up there my mom is watching "When Harry Met Sally" and walking on her beloved ocean sand with her parents. I hope she takes her shoes off. And where she's at, it doesn't matter if they match.

It's the important things, you know.