11
Her pen flew over the pages of her green journal, recounting not only Thanksgiving memories, but memories of other holidays, of Christmas Eves and Easter mornings, of Halloween costumes and fireworks on the Fourth of July. The storm had moved on and the morning sun was brilliant on the day after Thanksgiving, bouncing its rays off of the thin blanket of newly fallen snow. Jenny had bundled up, brought a dark blue wool blanket and the big brush she used to scrape snow off of her car to the clearing so she could clean off the bench and enjoy this gorgeous, crisp morning with her writing.
She was wasting no time describing all of the most precious thoughts she wanted to remember about her Mom. She'd actually started her writing streak after Thanksgiving dinner as soon as she'd been able
