Speaking of being haunted, I opened a book yesterday and this picture of my moth...

Speaking of being haunted, I opened a book yesterday and this picture of my mother fluttered out and fell to the ground.
I don’t know who took the photograph or when it was taken.
I don’t know who put the photograph in the book.
But there she was—my mother--submerged, smiling.
She loved to swim, particularly in salt water.
She loved the Atlantic Ocean and the Gulf of Mexico and the Chesapeake Bay.
If I had a rash (often), a cold (also often), a cut or gash, she would drive me to one coast...