plume

She wore a purple hat brandished with an ostrich plume sticking out flamboyantly and a scarf around her neck that had little peacocks on it. Her clothes in themselves weren't anything too showy, just a white shirt and black slacks. She was even wearing nondescript sandals. But it was the plume, the peacocks, the bright purple lipstick that she must've bought in a good mood that made her so colorful that I could literally see the life glowing in her.


Her eyes squinted until they found me, and then she gasped loudly and began to wave her arm around. "Jess! Over here!"


I quickly walked to her before she could yell some more. "Hi Mom," I said, kissing her on the cheek. "Nice hat."


"Do you like it? I bought it on sale. Seven dollars! Isn't it a bargain?" She wrapped her arms around me and squeezed my shoulders. Even with thin arms, she could still crush me. "Jess! Oh baby, how have you been?"


"Good. How are you?" We made our way to the car and put my bag in the trunk. "I heard you're off chemo now from Dad."


She winked at me and took off her hat, revealing the smooth skin that used to bring her to tears. Now she loves it. "Look at me. If I can't have a hair statement, then no one's going to stop me from having a hat statement." She laughed and opened the car door. "Let's get some ice cream. It's a good day, Jess!"


Maybe we should all buy hats with plumes.