This is a portrait of Judy McAllister. My mother. As we grow up our parents sometime expect us to turn out a certain way. Some parents want us to be doctors. Some parents want us to become President of the United States. All my mother ever wanted of me was for me to grow up to be a good person. This speaks for her humanness, her grace and her uncanny ability to know what was really important when navigating the maze of life. In our front yard growing up, next to the driveway in a little non-assuming patch was a small audience of daffodils. My mother never gardened…but planted bulbs one year when I was five. The flowers came back like clockwork the second week of March every year until she died. Those flowers for me ever symbolized “a breath of fresh air after dark and cold times.” She is greatly missed and I can’t fail to think looking down, she thinks “job well done…I got what I wanted.”