Not long after her death, I found a doodle Mama made in one of her notebooks. I scanned it and made a t-shirt design out of it just because I liked the idea of wearing something that Mama had drawn. But I never added any color to it. It seemed… wrong somehow. But today while looking for other images, I pulled that drawing up. And for some reason, I added some color to it. And it made me happy. Of course, it made me a little sad, too, because I thought about how when I was a kid Mama would draw things and let me color them in. Here I am, 48 years old, and I’m still coloring inside Mama’s lines. My whole life could be summed up by this drawing, and that I’m still trying to fill in the color inside the lines that Mama drew. Thanks, Mama, for drawing such good lines.