As autumn is rapidly coming upon us, I tend to do with more frequency about my mother. She loved the fall weather. Her birthday was in the fall. She loved to vite. All things great about autumn, in her view. Her name was Carmen. She didn’t like her name much. She, often, instead went by her middle name. My sister, sadly does the same thing. I never solely go by middle name. Well, lately I have. But that’s another story.
While traveling in Colombia this past minth, I happily and surprisingly, came across many buildings, plazas, and churches with the name of Carmen. I had never before experienced that. It was a bit surreal. But I embraced it. Everywhere I turned I looked for an ode to Carmen. She would gave loved this. Probably finally finding delight in her name. As I did throughout small spurts here had there during my lovely trip.