I feel the last surviving traces of summer on my skin. Fall is taking over once again, slowly changing everything. A force commanding transition, like all the other seasons, it is something not fought, only accepted.
Just like death.

Teresa, or as I would call her, Mama, has been a dying flower for a long time. But she loved life. She fought to live the longest possible time. And she did.

But every season has its own end. Summer, as her name implies, like all the other seasons, and pretty much everything else in this life, has reached the end of its existence. 

She lived all the days of her last summer surrounded by her husband and children. I am sure she felt a lot of love. She was happy. Summer is her season after all.

She died 1st of September.

I feel the last surviving traces of summer on my skin. Summer may have gone. But her love sure still lingers around me.

The photo here was taken at her sister’s house last July 2010, when I married Adam, her son.

That too, was summer.