When our mother was still driving, she loved this yellow car that our dad purchased her. She drove the car to the mailbox, when dad wasn’t at the household. She adored the a/c that was in the car, and I remember her having it on as high as she could get it. She even turned the a/c on during the Winter one time, and when I said I was freezing, she said she could open the window and let some cool air inside. I thought she was a bit off her rocker, although she was our mother. Now that she is in her nineties, she no longer drives, although she is the proud operator of her very own air conditioning device. I say that laughingly, because she can no longer tolerate the cold. She has an air conditioner, although she uses it merely for the fan setting. I told her she has a ceiling fan in her bedroom, although she says it throws too much dust all over the place, and she prefers to have the a/c on. I knew she wasn’t feeling very well when I walked in and she was tucked beneath the covers. She said it was freezing cold. She had the air conditioner off, and it was about a hundred degrees in there. I checked her temperature, although she was just fine. I then looked over and I saw the sizable ice water bottle. She had dropped it into her bed, and she was there right next to it. I moved the bottle, and kissed her on the forehead. I remembered the frigid cold of the a/c in the car, and how carefree she once was in the past.