Mom died today, August 5, 2014. She was 91 years old. Before my father passed away in 2006, we five children promised to take care of his beloved Eleanor, as he would have done. My mother was strong, independent and curious; as you can imagine, she often balked at our requests to help. In different ways, though, we each spent time with her, whether joining her on a trip to Africa, driving half-way across the state to swap Walla Walla Sweet Onions for crisp Golden Delicious apples, eating fried chicken at Whoopemup Restaurant, sending books back and forth by media mail (“Have you read this? What did you think?”), or touring the windy roads of northwestern Idaho to visit a friend. Anne, Janet, Bruce, Robert and I were so fortunate to be able to spend these past few months with her—and with each other—as she gently, quietly, and with dignity, in her own home, left us to be with Dad on his birthday. I already miss her.