remember my mother

My mother was a lady. She cursed at times; laughed at some dirty jokes and didn’t get out much in the last several years of her life. But she was a lady. She never complained about how I repeated myself and what goals I had set for myself, no matter how many times I told her. She always remained attetive and genuine. I have never met another like her. And although she is physically absent from this existance, I know she is still here. She told m when I was young that she would be here, and play the piano. I no longer have a piano in the house, though. I should get one in case she wants to play.