My mom died a few days ago. She was a light in a dark room. Brilliant. Kind. Generous to a fault. She gave too much of herself to others. She was also complicated. Eccentric. Overbearing in a way only a mother can be. She held herself and others to an impossible standard and that made life harder than it needed to be. But she was full of love and she gave us a childhood I will cherish forever. Now we’re left holding onto the past and the things imbued with her memory. A hair clip. The sound of a piano. Afternoon coffee. Strawberry rhubarb pie. A hand knit sweater. Every time I see a rose. I love you mom.