My momma was truly one of a kind. In her later years, she decided that life was too short for boring hair, so she started dyeing it purple. Somewhere along the way, that bold shade became one of my favorite colors—partly because it was beautiful, but mostly because

We shared so many laughs in the everyday moments, mixed in with the very real frustrations that come with being both an adult child and a mother at the same time. It was messy, funny, exhausting, and full of love—often all in the same day.

Now that all my own kids are grown, I feel that little twist of karma she used to joke about. And in the quiet moments, I miss my Momma deeply. I miss her humor, her stubbornness, her purple hair, and the way she could fill a room just by being in it.

Purple isn’t just a color anymore. It’s a memory, a legacy, and a reminder of the woman who shaped so much of who I am.

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