I have memories of getting off the kindergarten bus and walking inside my childhood home in New Jersey where my mother would meet me with graham crackers and cream cheese and jelly. We'd dance in our paneled den to the mellow crooning of Glen Campbell. Whenever I hear him, I think of those days and I think of my mother, her hip-hugger corduroys and big, wide belts and teased hair and how fun she was.
I love you, Mom.
(I know this is very, very corny, but I was moved to tears by it --)