My mother was once a baby, too.

Sometimes I like to think of my mother as this baby, sitting on a porch in the warm sunlight, somewhere in the Mississippi Delta. I imagine her later as a toddler and then the young girl and I never go beyond that. I stay focused on those years so that I am not the center of the perspective, that I don't remember her as she was to me, but what I imagine her life was when she was attached to her own mother. None of us really ever think of our mothers outside ourselves and egos. We never think of them without us. We should.