My mom Diane Todd Yates was born on the 4th of July and died on Christmas. When she died, I was nowhere close to ready to have a memorial for her. I wouldn’t even bring her ashes into my house. The ashes lived in my Jeep for six months and drove around town with me...
I do so much to try and keep my son’s name alive and spoken, and his love felt. But it’s so hard to reach into my mind and remember him. He’s slipped away from me. Sometimes at night I sit up and wonder if I made him up. Was he a perfect dream followed by the...
