Dear Mom

Four years ago today you left this Earth. But I still feel your presence sometimes. Like when I look at my feet. Seems odd but my feet have always been miniatures of yours and my bunions that appeared by the time I was five years old remind me of you. I wear your silver bracelet often. I'm actually wearing it right now. I love how it takes on the warmth from my skin and seems to mold to the curve of my wrist. I kept one of your nightgowns and it is folded neatly in my pajamas drawer. I will probably never wear it but I like knowing that it's there. Some of your ashes reside on the second shelf of the middle bookcase in the family room in the Edna Valley chardonnay bottle. Also displayed there are photos of you and a rosemaled wooden dipper. I wish I could have been there for you more the last few years of your life. I don't know that it would have made any difference but I remain grateful to Martine and her devotion to you and the time and help she so willingly gave. I'm certain she was a much better daughter than I would have been. The mother/daughter relationship is a complex and often difficult one, interlaced with many emotions. We weathered some mighty tempests, you and I, but I believe we came to an understanding in the end. My wish for you now is that you are in a better and happier place than the one you left behind. You live on in the hearts of many in a larger-than-life way. And it feels as though you have stealthily breezed through the room whenever I catch the scent of Estee Lauder perfume in the air.