Mom was giddy. Those first years after cancer took Dad, Mom stepped out with sweet eager curiosity and newfound freedom. She wanted her hair short (something Dad didn’t encourage). She was keen to embrace life, love and be seen. Alzheimer’s had moved into her mind years earlier. Our response to its hunger and greed during this short bright chapter (before it gobbled voraciously) was to seek out and soak up the bright moments sparkling in the simplest things - like the photo booth at a Tart Gallery Valentine’s party eight years ago. Today was a somewhat rare domestic day for me. I cleaned our home and baked cookies. A few simple kitchen gestures are linked directly to Mom (fluff the flour with a spoon, flip the spoon to make chopping motions on the flour in the measuring cup before dispensing the excess to make a perfect measurement). Mom ground her own flour (the gluten-free almond flour I use a distant cousin). I felt Mom in my kitchen today. A smile rides alongside my tears as the last batch of cookies bake in the oven. Happy Valentines Mom. I love you.