One of the most distinct ways I remember my mom as she was when I was younger is her sitting in the front passenger seat of our car as my dad drove us down the highway, her bare feet resting on the dash as she sang along with the rock 'n roll "oldies" she grew up with. She always seemed so free & happy, her head luxuriously resting back on the seat, sunglasses hiding her eyes, as she lounged in the sun & drank in the breeze from the open windows.
There were also several nights when I would run to hug her after they had been out at some benefit, concert, dinner, etc. I should have been in bed, but I was never one to follow the rules. I remember being engulfed in her camel hair dress coat, soaked in the delicious scent of the cold night air & Tresor. I remember that sweet, warm aroma, alive with the sharp chill. We children were spoiled to have her home with us so much. We didn't much like her going out for occasions, and leaving us behind.
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