I bought a melon with my Mom yesterday.  Not literally you understand, as she’s been gone six years now.  But she was right there.

Mom told me years ago when I was a teenager that you could tell a ripe honeydew melon by feeling the rind.  The ripe melons have a softer, more velvety feel, rather than the slicker skin of an immature melon.

I’ve never tried to buy a honeydew before, but somehow when I saw that stack of melons displayed at the store yesterday I reached out to touch.  And I found one, just one, that had that velvety texture.

I smiled, along with Mom, as we rearranged the display to take home that one melon, way at the bottom of the pile, that we both knew would be just perfect.

Moms.  Always there.  Always right.