The headline is clunky, but I don't have the energy to "optimize" it.

No curiosity gap.

I just want to celebrate my mother.

She was 57 when she lost her fight with multiple myeloma. She survived 5 years- longer than most in 2006.

January has been emotional for me ever since. It's been harder since Julian died. He always remembered the anniversary. He would say a prayer for Mom and give me lots of hugs.

I like to think they're hanging out in the afterlife.

My Mom was ahead of her time. She was a fashionista and loved her red VW Bug.

She married the first man who asked her because it was the only way my grandfather would let her move out.

My sister and I were under 2 years old when she left the marriage: he was abusive and had started to turn his rage onto his daughters.

She proudly became a single mother when it was considered shameful. Good girls don't divorce.

When she married my Dad in 1974 she became the matriarch of a blended family. When my classmates asked questions I told them we were like the Brady Bunch.

My Mom loved being a wife and mother.

Though I rebelled against it at first, I am now grateful that I inherited her strength and the fierce way she loved her children.

They were the greatest gifts that she gave me.