It's a bit off-topic, but here is what is at the forefront of my mind today: It's been 8 years since I lost my (adoptive) mother—she died suddenly a few days after my 23rd birthday, which was the last day I saw her. Those last moments I spent with her are seared into my memory in a bittersweet time capsule. We had dinner with my sisters at a Mexican restaurant that day, we ate gross amounts of guacamole, we talked about an upcoming trip to Maine and whether any of us wanted to go see Legally Blonde in the theater, my mom drank a tall margarita that made her giggly. As my mom hugged me goodbye, she brushed my hair back from my face and squealed with delight over my new short haircut (it was the first time I had ever cut my very long hair in my life—10 inches to Locks of Love). Then I grumbled about feeling "old" and not wanting to turn 23. My mom grabbed my hands in hers and told me that her 20's were really great years, and her 30's were even better and her 40's were the best. She told me that all the years of a person's life are a gift and that I should cherish mine (spooky in retrospect). After a million birthday kisses on my face, she climbed into her car with my little sister. That last glance of her is still so real in my head. The summer sun was setting beyond the car as she drove away, creating a bright halo of golden light around her face….in my head she was glowing like an angel or fairy might. She waved at me until she was a speck on the horizon….and then she was gone.
The imprint she left on my life was monumental, she saved me. I know I wouldn't be the same woman I am today if I hadn't been lucky enough to have her come into my life and love me like her own blood.
RIP Susan Dena Gottesman
April 26, 1955- July 13, 2003