Some of the most beautiful of things in life can not be measured by men.
It is difficult to ascertain the length or depth to which a parent will go for a child or a child for their parent.
It still touches my heart to reach this day, April 1st - April Fool's for some - and I feel the tiniest of pains.
On this day, in the late 1940's, a child was born. She was raised in a small country town of Arkansas. Her adventures eventually led her to receive not one, not two, but three little kiddos in her life, each as unique and different as can be: older boy athlete, middle girl nerd, baby girl who just wanted to have fun.
Through heartaches and struggles, Christmases with very few presents, a neighborhood rocked hard by gangs and drugs, this mother was a praying woman who saw her athlete grow into a proud member of the military, her middle child as a second year college student and her baby girl growing strong when life, it seemed, had different plans for her.
She left this world in 1996, but she left a most beautiful of things: a legacy of love that I hope and pray I can do half as well in passing on to my Chipmunk.
Rest in peace, Momma. You will always be missed.