ABSTRACT
Her hair is wrapped smoothly in a possibly comfortable bun, higher than seems right but that was the style then. She is perched on a rock, near flower bushes, smiling. My mother clutches a small handbag with gloved hands, her legs neatly arranged. Like my father, she wears a crisp suit. I dont know what color because the image is from a black and white photograph, not a memory. They are about the same age as I am now.
