Once the older girls were off to school, we would load into the Vanagon and head to the St. James YMCA for preschool. The building's entrance had two sets of doors with frosted glass; a particular detail that stayed with me because this was the "drop-off" point. The dreaded moment would come when mom, in a sing-song way, said "Okay Holly see you in a little bit, have fun!" Without fail I cried and wailed.
Later, mom and I would visit my Grandma A, whose house was 2 blocks from the Y. I'm guessing they would have coffee while I banged on the piano and explored the never ending supply of over-stuffed cupboards and closets.
Afterwards, mom and I took the Perimeter Highway to the Husky Oil to gas up the Vanagon with diesel. On our way back into the city the light poured into the van exposing every dust particle floating in the air. Mom in the drivers seat, the warmth of the sun on my face and the rattling hum of the engine. The day was complete and perfectly ours.
Happy Birthday Mom.