the memory of my mother came to me like a drifting scent in the breeze, swirling through the branches of a nearby cedar tree.
I was drawn back 35 years] to the day I learned she had passed on.
But that autumn day of 1973 did not grip me with deep sadness, the burden of never seeing her again.
I was looking at that day from a new angle, a distant view that seemed to suggest a new, untold story.
I was suddenly more than curious about who my mother truly was in this life and beyond.