I noticed it the second I walked out the door. It was 3 degrees cold, and in the southeast sky, I could see Venus, brighter than I had ever seen it in my life.

As the blackness of the sky slowly gave way to the morning I saw the most beautiful blue I have seen for a long time. I was mesmerized as it developed into several shades of blue. It has been awhile since I have been in such awe of an everyday occurence.

I began to wonder why it was having such a profound effect on me when it hit me like a bolt of lightning.

I have seen that shade of blue many times before. It was my mother's eyes. And Venus was still shining bright as ever like the twinkling in her eyes every time they met mine.

I miss her more this time of year than any other. This was our time of year.

She would have loved that sky, and would have soaked up every inch of it and stored it away in her mind. She would have seen every subtle shade, and forgotten nothing. Then she would have worked for days reproducing it on a canvas.

Someone would have been proud to hang that sky in their home to see anytime they wanted. Someone would have had the nicest present this Christmas.

I miss watching her perform her magic with nothing more than a blank canvass, a rich palette of finely blended colors, and a few dozen brushes. Her mind causing her fingers to reproduce exactly what her eyes had recorded.

She lives now only in the memories of the many whose lives she touched, and on the walls of galleries, and living rooms around the world.

If "justice" authored an encyclopedia, and I looked up the word love, I would find her images, and her story.