writing her alive

thirty two years too long

11,687 days

32 years

5 more without you than with you...

I did the grief math. I do each year.

But for today I want to imagine you are still here.

You are on your way into the city. We are heading to Bergdorf for lunch. We will share the chop with extra dressing on the side. We will peek at a few dresses for Ryan's wedding. I will share the new Loehmann's site. It's all on line now. We make jokes about the old communal dressing room and the countless naked bodies and boobs I encountered there as a kid.

We talk about my agency. Hard to believe it's still in business. So many magazines gone now. The PR game has all changed. But I still love it. You tell me stories about you and Dad from back when in DC. You are sad he is gone too.

We catch up on the kids. Still talking about Emma's show at Joe's. Quinn's audition went well. I have to tell you again about the boldfaced names she is cooking for in LA so you can brag to the Scrabble ladies. I love that you are playing Mahjong again. You laugh that it is trendy now. We admire the cool sets they sell on 7. Maybe I will get you a new one for your birthday.

I take in your skin. Still so few wrinkles. Olive. Those cheek bones. Seemingly higher each year. Lips. Signature shadow on your deep lids. So glamorous. I love the way the room still turns when you walk in. I try to memorize it. I know someday it will be otherwise.

You are not in the mood to try on. So we just look and admire. You prefer a discount to this...but we get some ideas. I like your new pocketbook. A Marshall's find you say.

Work is slower for you now, by choice. Still top agent in town, but only a special few clients. More beach days.

We are planning the girls trip for my 60th with Danna. We have always wanted to do something like this and it's finally booked.

We head to the matinee. Just In Time. You love and know all the music. We book the cafe seats and you are surprised we are part of the show. Jonathan Groff is literally spitting on us.

We hold hands and window shop our way to your car. You tell the shop girl in Foundrae MY age so she can marvel that someone so young looking could have a daughter that old.

I love our Wednesdays. We have shared so many Wednesdays.

Today I will find a plum.

Light a candle.

And dream.

Of your laugh. Soft as ever skin. And how cared for and protected I feel with you in the world.

Missing you as ever, Mom. Today and all of the days. X, me