Shining with tears. It was only later that I found out it was the first song she and daddy had danced to at their wedding.
The stilettos were one of the first heartbreaks of the diagnosis. I remember hearing mum crying in her room one day and padding up to find her sitting on her bed, placing them carefully into a silver box like a coffin, shrouded with beautiful rose-coloured tissue paper. The doctor said high heels are just an accident waiting to happen, and that, with everything else, was something she really didn't need. I watched as she kissed each shoe before pressing the lid down gently and tying the whole precious package together with a blue ribbon. The first of many sacrifices to Huntington's.
That was a long time ago, though. That mum died long before her heart stopped beating last Tuesday. The real mum, the way I'll always remember her, wearing those precious shoes and swirling and whirling away to her heart's content. Not lying alone, small and frail and empty, in a hospital bed.
The sharp ringing of the telephone makes me jump. I count the rings - one, two, three - and the machine kicks in.
'Hello!' Mum's voice sings, and my heart leaps. 'You have reached the Kenning residence. Trudie and Rosie are out at the oi, but if you'd like to leave a message - you know what to do!'
I swallow painfully. Aunt Sarah's been at me to change it - and I know I should - but I just can't bring myself to erase her voice. She sounds so happy, so alive.
The caller clears his throat uncertainly. A familiar trait, no matter how much times passed. My eyes flick to the phone.
'Um. Hi - Rosie? It's Andy. It's up. It's been a while, huh?' Awkward pause 'Listen, im - im sorry about your mum, it must be...' another pause. 'Shit. Look. I'd really like to see you. Call me, okay? No pressure. Just as friends. Okay? You know I'm always here if... you know where I am. Bye.'

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