Mom always liked adventures.  She refused to come to Nashville after Katrina, and the only reason I can think of that she didn't was because it was an adventure for her, living through the heat, the knife fight in her front yard, the Meals on Wheels.

Years before that, she was visiting us when we were in Cary, NC, and she got snowed in due to a blizzard.  Her eyes shone and she had a great time making food for and cleaning up after Xi's friends as they came and went because of our fireplace and food.  If she hadn't been snowed in, I wouldn't have had time enough to talk her into retiring and moving in with me.

And before that, she and Xi and I had a little blue shrimp truck.  We'd get shrimp from the boats in Biloxi, then go sell them from coolers in north MS and AL.  We didn't make much, mostly just enough for food, gas and a motel.  We'd take turns with the radio stations and it was a really free time for the three of us.

She would have "enjoyed" this adventure of covid and the protests.  I'm sure she would be upset about the deaths from covid and the police brutality against black people, but she'd also enjoy hunkering down and watching the protest and cheering for the protesters.

I miss her so much I can't stand it.  They say time heals wounds, and I'm waiting for that time, because 8 years later, the pain is the same.