Today is Mother’s Day. So today’s photos are images of my mom, who I called Mutti. In the first photo, she is about 16 years old. The second photo was the last one I took of my mom - a few weeks before she died. She was 90. I told her she needed a butterfly sticker on her forehead. When she looked up at me with a smile and a sparkle in her eyes, I couldn’t resist taking a photo.

I miss Mutti terribly. When she was alive, we talked early every day and always tried to make her laugh. She liked word searches and Lladro statues. She collected shot glasses and I would buy her one every time I traveled to some new place. I still stop and look at shot glasses when I travel, until I remember that she is no longer around.

Mutti was a professional seamstress - the best I have ever seen. She owned 7 sewing machines and was a perfectionist when sewing, repairing, or altering clothing. She was smart, tougher than nails, stubbornly independent. She lived alone right up until her death. I loved her and admired her and was grateful for her.

The photos show her attractiveness, which she kept as she aged. And the photos make me think of the arc of her life - from a girl raised on a farm by parents who emigrated from Poland, to her wedding to my dad - a sailor in the Navy, through the births of her four children (I am the youngest), past the death of my dad and on to her life as a widow. She acknowledged that she had lived a wonderful life. Generous, kind, loyal, and willing to suspend judgement, she had many friends - too many of whom she lost as she got older.

I toast her today and the many memories that remain with me and that I cherish. To you, Mutti. I love you.