As I ponder the years with Peter, so many memories come to mind. One that always comes to mind is when Peter came home from 1st grade and told me he didn't want me to die. At the time, I was a smoker. I knew I should quit, but it wasn't until I heard his words (words I, too, had said to my own mother, who didn't quit-who died at the age of 60 of a heart attack) that I KNEW I had to quit. I didn't know HOW I would do it, just that I MUST!!!! That was in 1991-and I haven't smoked since!
Now, he is getting married-and I need to lose weight (don't worry-no major health issues, just a mother-of-the-groom dress). Here we go again!
Gotta love my son!
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