G-L-O-R-I-A

A little girl named Gloria

Thirteen years.  How can it be?  Weren't we just planning my wedding together, picking out table cloths and flowers and debating which cake to serve?  Weren't we were just marveling at the size of my belly and guessing if the baby would be on time, or arrive early?  Weren't we just having lunch together, chatting more like girlfriends, than mother and daughter?  Thirteen years.  How can it be? Beats me.  But if you figure it out, let me know.  Some things, I'll never understand.